


DCMK Case Files

by astorii



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, I: Canon Divergence, I: Missing!Conan, II: NightBaron!Conan, II: NightBaron!Shinichi, III: Author!Shinichi, III: Fanboy!Kaito, IV: Author doesn’t know how to tag this but it’s attempted angst, IX: In which Conan can’t trust anyone, M/M, V: Kid misunderstands, V: TRIGGER WARNING for reference to suicide, VI: Soulmate AU, VII: Babysitting Adventure With Conan, VIII: KaiShin Exes AU, X: Preview of Measured In Moments rewrite, X: Soulmate AU, XI: Sorcerer!Conan, XI: Sorcerer!Shinichi, XII: Sonoko thinks Shinichi may be gay and Ran wants to prove her wrong, XIII: Heists and snipers don’t mix idk what to tell you, XIV: Urban Legend - Hachishakusama, XIV: You See But Do Not Observe Verse, XIX: Continuation of VI, XIX: Kaito is planning a heist and worrying about his soulmate, XV: Continuation Of XII, XV: Kaito is a guilt-tripping lil shi—, XVI: Actor!Shinichi, XVII: Preview Of Sister Story To Measured In Moments, XVIII: There’s a kidnapper loose and unfortunately Conan is the perfect bait, XX: A Good Day to be a Dog AU, XX: tho it’s more like A Good Day to be a Conan, XXI: Continuation of XIII, XXII: Idk how to tag this but it involves my very limited knowledge of Morse code, XXII: Kind of a continuation/filler of I, XXIII: TRIGGER WARNING for violent thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2019-06-14 12:32:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 23,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astorii/pseuds/astorii
Summary: Just a place for all those lonely ideas I have. Perhaps one day I’ll expand upon them. Or, if anyone would like, people can continue promptswithpermission.Tags include chapter number for your convenience!XXI:“Kid, is Edogawa-kun still alive?”XXII: Taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap.XXIII: “Morbid curiosity. Everyone thinks things like that occasionally.”





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I do not and never will own DCMK.
> 
> If any of these ideas are inspired by anything, I’ll reference it in the chapter end notes.

Edogawa hadn’t participated in the heist.

Saguru has had his fair share of encounters with the young detective with the first being the case back at the Twilight Mansion. He remembers with astounding clarity the brilliance the Edogawa had demonstrated. He’s plenty aware of the sharp mind the child possesses and he fears just how much greater it will become as it ages—like a fine wine, he supposes. It’s fairly common knowledge that the spectacled boy is known as the Kid Killer and almost always attends when the invitation is extended to him by old man Suzuki.

He hasn’t had the pleasure of seeing Edogawa in action at a heist, but he had been under the impression that the Kid Killer is a dangerous opponent and an active participant. Although, Saguru supposes that the child’s hiding away in the corner is due to his apparent ailment. The older detective ( _—Edogawa may be young, but he has proved himself to be an equal—_ ) has noticed the cloth mask covering the lower half of Edogawa’s face, shielding his mouth and nose. The little detective lurks away from the crowd, hands in the pocket of his green sweatshirt, and occasionally staring at his phone or the clock but otherwise unbothered by the world.

If Edogawa is feeling unwell, he should not have come—especially since he seems to have come alone. Even the smallest of colds can incapacitate the mightiest of warriors. Saguru makes the decision to watch him for the rest of the night. The well-being of a child is much more important than chasing after an admittedly harmless thief. And even more so given recent events.

•••

“Ah, Tantei-kun, you made it.”

Saguru stills, his hand hovering just inches away from the rooftop door, which is slightly ajar. He pauses, wondering if he should go ahead and open the door. On one hand, he decided that he’s going to watch over Edogawa. On the other hand, he’s curious as to how the little detective’s confrontations with the thief play out. He can only wonder if Kid is just as aware as he is of the boy’s frightening intelligence.

“The jewel,” says Edogawa, his voice muffled by the mask. Saguru imagines the child holding out a small hand, wiggling his fingers in a beckoning call and a gesturing for the stolen property to be returned. Perhaps the other hand is tucked away in a pocket. He’s noticed that the boy tends to come off as aloof. The traits must show through his actions.

“Boo,” Kid says, sounding petulant. “We usually trade such pleasantries before you ask for it.”

“The jewel, Kid-san.” Edogawa scoffs. Saguru can almost see as the moonlight bounces off of those large glasses as its wearer’s head leans back. “I didn’t come here for you.”

Saguru waits for Kid’s response. It comes exactly thirty-one seconds later. The thief says, “You’re not Tantei-kun.”

The teen detective sucks in a breath, wondering to himself if he should step in. Telling himself to be patient, he stays hidden, choosing to wait for an explanation. He doesn’t wish to make any rash decisions or jump to conclusions. Besides, he’d rather curious. If that isn’t Edogawa, then who is it?

There’s a small chuckle that sounds nothing like Edogawa. “Less than three minutes, Kid-san,” says a rather feminine voice. “I’m impressed. You really are a master of disguises.”

“Ah, Ojō-san,” Kid remarks, sounding a bit wary. Saguru wonders why the thief would break his pokerface, even if for just a moment. “It’s not very often that children disguise as other children, you know.”

The detective almost peeks through the crack in the door, but he doesn’t dare move in fear of making a sound. He wonders who the little miss is and why she felt the need to disguise as Edogawa. Saguru frowns, puzzling over how she could create such a convincing look. While it’s not a new concept for Kid to disguise as adults, it’s definitely a very odd idea for a child to dress up as another. Obviously, there must be something going on.

Then, he wonders where Edogawa is if not at the heist. He highly doubts that the boy would send someone over in disguise just because he is unable to attend. Saguru remembers that there are rumors around almost every police branch in Japan of the young boy who seems to attract trouble like magnets. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the boy with obnoxiously large glasses and an interesting cowlick is the little detective.

“I’m sure Edogawa-kun sends his condolences for not being able to make it,” not-Edogawa drawls. Then, her voice turns serious. Saguru has never heard such a tone from a child. “He’s been acting off since your last heist,” she reveals, speaking slow words. “And then, he disappeared four days ago.”

“And you couldn’t come as yourself, Ojō-san?” Kid asks, seeming to ignore her words.

“I just wanted to be sure that you had nothing to do with this,” the little miss replies. “If you are a part of it, you would’ve known I’m not Edogawa-kun earlier. Besides, he answered the invitation sent by the exhibition owner,” she continues. “Two days ago, in fact. Mouri-san doesn’t know he’s missing—no one does bar the Professor and I.”

Kid falls silent. It isn’t long before he asks why she’d tell him. Saguru wonders that too. Even more, he wants to know why it seems that no one’s been alerted. How has no one noticed the disappearance of the other child? The questions are far too many for the detective to leave them alone.

“Edogawa-kun is smart,” she notes. “He left a message for you in his response. You might be a thief, but he trusts you. So, for now, I’ll trust you to find him as well as bring him back.” She hums. “Though, for the life of me, I can’t figure out why he holds you on such a high pedestal, Moonlight-san.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I coined this idea almost a year ago. I wrote a draft and deleted it. Here’s another draft that I wrote at midnight.
> 
> Where am I going with this? I have two ideas with one being darker than the other.
> 
> It’s really up to you guys to decide how it goes—at least until I write this. If I write this. *shrugs*


	2. II

**Night Baron Strikes Again!**

**Who is this mysterious offender?**

By Freelancer: Tanaka Azami

17-11-XX

On the 14th of November, a break-in had occurred at a museum not too far from the Kid heist taking place on the very same night.

Nakamori Ginzō, 41, claims that there was no warning, not unlike the last break-in. Nakamori-keibu is known for his position as Head of the brigade in charge of apprehending Kaitō 1412. As a dealer in frauds and a side hobby in apprehending Kid, he says that there is no reason for him to be investigating our Night Baron friend. If we want someone on the case, he says, the public should be referring to Division 3, who deals with theft; however, as it’s been made clear, nothing was stolen. Although, a peculiar note had been left at the scene of the crime, as always:

 

I seek no fortune,

Yet I am the most selfish.

I apologize.

 

Although I took naught,

As nothing held any worth,

My condolences.

 

Night Baron.

 

Many believe that the note is simply an apology for breaking in, which is certainly interesting coming from an offender. The note begs the question of what is the Night Baron looking for? Is he just the same as Kaitō Kid?

Clearly, this person is looking for something. Nothing on display has been reported missing and curators are inclined to believe that the Night Baron did indeed leave things untouched—or did they? During the time of Kid’s heist, the museum had been closed for the night. No visible signs of a break-in and our only proof of the event is the card stock left on the office door of the museum.

Museum Curator Saitō Aika, 37, says that security had been in place during the same hours the heist took place. Guards had reported zero disturbances and current investigations are turning up evidence that Night Baron must have touched little to nothing during his or her secret visit. According to her, in a recent interview, police have yet to take action.

Despite this being the sixth break-in by the Night Baron character, the authorities are not concerning themselves immensely until damage or proven theft occurs.

Meanwhile, the community has been abuzz upon the realization that the moniker donned by this offender is that of the thief in author Kudō Yūsaku’s discontinued series. Fans speculate that the Night Baron is none other than the author himself as the man’s been missing for years and presumed to be dead. If so, why would the ex-detective turn to a life of crime? Harmless he may be, but a criminal is still a criminal.

In the famous series, the Night Baron is known to be a ruthless killer. What of this new criminal? Is it possible that our own has no strong regard for the life of a human? Is it possible that the first thing he steals will be someone’s last breath? Perhaps we’ll figure that out soon when more details come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Date is written in Day-Month-Year format. :)
> 
> **Tanaka Azami is just a random name. 
> 
> My idea for this one is to have the prologue just be a news article and then the following chapter is the actual story. Occasionally, more news reports may crop up.
> 
> The original idea had been that Yūsaku does “method writing”, which is how he’s been able to write successful books. He became an actual thief and then took some creative liberty (Night Baron’s killer tendencies) in order to create well-written books. Then, for some forsaken reason, he and Yukiko pass this idea onto Shinichi. At first, the detective refuses until he’s turned into Conan.
> 
> The reason he takes on the role as Conan is because he wants to use it as a way to somehow get closer to the Organization. Idk.
> 
> The alternative ideas, which this version is about, is that Yūsaku either gets too close to the truth with investigating the original Kid’s disappearance or Tōichi’s death (or both) and Snake eliminates him.
> 
> Shinichi (or Conan) dons the identity of the Night Baron. Because he really isn’t Kaito, he does his “heists” in secret. He as well is looking for Pandora as he follows the notes his father left behind. He doesn’t quite know what he’s looking for, but he knows enough. He leaves a lil calling card of his own as an apology because he’s still a detective and doesn’t feel right doing this.
> 
> Honestly, he probably does this because he wants to know what his father died/disappeared for and so does his mother. He also probably has little faith that his mother could do all this half as successfully as he does.
> 
> I honestly imagine Shinichi as Conan in this scenario. I’ve done little concept doodles. I imagine that he begins by just dressing in black clothes and making his way inside using Agasa’s gadgets. Then, he transitions into some Night Baron costume. Who knows.
> 
> Yeah. That’s all I got. This is just self-indulgence, as always. I just like the idea of a NightBaron!Conan stupifyng Kid and being all guilty about doing less than legal deeds. He likes to tell himself that it’s all to solve a mystery.
> 
> Now available in my new series: [.12%](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1093683)


	3. III

_The image is almost unreal._

_Glowing softly behind him like a halo, the moon continues on a slow ascent in the night sky. His shadow paints the ground, stretching across like a black-blue mass against the grey of the rooftop in such a way that it’s almost a signature. Against the background, he seems incorporeal like a ghost—like a phantom. The stark white of his garb heightens the effect, making him seem almost unearthly with such a radiance._

_It seems as though he had jumped down from the heavens, landing on the raised edge of the building. Without so much as a sound, he jumps forward with an almost inaudible tap as his feet touch the ground. The sound shatters the illusion that he is intangible for no such thing could produce even the quietest of noises. His descent had been smooth and steady as though he were gliding through a substance akin to honey or something equally as viscous if not more._

_In a pristine white, his cape gathers around him while not quite touching the ground. Even as a breeze brushes by, the fabric does not sway, yet it will sometimes flutter around him even when the wind is at an eerie standstill. His face is shadowed by the brim of his rather large hat and hidden from the moonbeams that peek out from behind him. Even then, his eyes burn despite the dark contour on his face and the curve of his lips is unmistakeable._

_“My, my,” says he with a musical lilt in his voice. “I suppose you’ve won our little game of cat and mouse, little detective.”_

_“Hardly,” pipes a young voice, “Mr. Thief, as not all things are as they seem.”_

_“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like you’d prefer to lose.”_

_Moonshine bounces off of the lens of the little detective’s glasses. Behind them, blue eyes shine furiously, vibrant with adrenaline and ferocity unbefitting of a child. With a sharp click of the tongue, he kneels down on one leg and presses the side of his left sneaker. As he rises, electricity crackles. His right hand presses against he buckle of his belt, squeezing the top and bottom of the rather peculiar looking accessory._

_A soccer ball inflates and it pops off as soon as it’s full of air. The boy bounces it back-and-forth between both of his feet. “Not necessarily—I just prefer to tell the story as is.” Without further warning, he launches the ball upwards. As it nears his foot in its seemingly slow descent, he connects with the ball, sending it towards his bigger opponent at a startling speed. “And this one isn’t over yet.”_

•••

Sunlight streams in through an open window, letting fresh air filter in. Shinichi inhales deeply as his eyes fall shut. Between his teeth is a pen, which falls to his desk as he lets out a rather violent sigh. He opens his eyes and wonders for a brief moment about why life is so frustrating and rather cruel. In front of him, on the desk, his notepad rests next to his laptop, which winks at him with its bright screen. The notepad is full of smooth handwriting marred with angry scribbles.

His jaw tightens and he leans back, wondering why he can’t get anything right. For days, he’s been stuck, looking at the same words he had written over three weeks ago. Shinichi runs a hand through his hair, combing it from the front by threading his fingers between his bangs, which pushes them up and out of his eyes. As he peers up at what lay before him, a flash of hot anger overtakes him. Without so much as a second thought, he grabs a random object from his desk and hurls it with all his might.

With a great thud, it connects with the wall. Coming to his senses, he realizes that he had just thrown his pencil holder. Straining to see it by leaning forward and craning his neck, he notices that his pens have spilled out. Squinting his eyes for a closer look, he notices a lone paperclip peeking out from inside. Shinichi clicks his tongue, falling back and resigning himself to glaring at the light fixture. Moments later, his phone buzzes, vibrating against the wooden surface. With a sigh, he picks it up, not bothering to check who’s calling as he already knows whose voice he will hear.

Disregarding any preamble, his mother’s frantic voice asks if he’s okay. Withholding a sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose and tells her that he’s fine. To quell her worry, he tells her that he had thrown his pencil holder. She falls silent, ceasing in her ramblings and possibly even coming to a conclusion, before advising that he speaks with his father. Shinichi hangs up instead of saying anything more. If he hadn’t already thrown something, he’s almost certain that he would have hurled the phone at the wall out of spite. Instead, he drops the phone onto the desk, glancing down at his notepad and trying to make sense of his writing.

He picks up his pen, holding it in his right hand, bringing it down to paper. His arm shakes and ink begins to bleed. Shinichi bites his bottom lip, turning it red with how harshly he’s abusing it. His eyes screw shut and he slams his fisted left hand on the table before dropping his pen and pushing away from the desk. Telling himself that he just needs a cup of coffee and an hour or two of reading, he makes his way towards the door.

•••

He’s in his father’s library, situated behind the desk with a book at hand. He hasn’t touched his notepad or laptop since three days ago. Currently, Shinichi seems to be distracting himself from his previous frustrations, choosing to immerse himself in his one and only comfort: books. Ever since he turned three, he began his early career as a bookworm. Sure, as a young child, reading had been a little difficult because his brain is still quite young and yearning for information, but practice makes perfect. By the time he entered kindergarten, he could already read lengthy Grade-Three-level passages as his parents both helped and encouraged his literary learning.

Shinichi appears to be reading one of his father’s books, but his eyes flicker over each word as though he isn’t truly reading them. His eyes slip shut and his lips appear to tremble, but he holds the book closer to his face, hiding his expression from view. He startles when the door opens. The footsteps padding around on the floor towards him are familiar, so he doesn’t lower the publication in his hands. He doesn’t need to anyway because a slender finger appears, pushing the book down.

Like some sort of angel, his childhood friend looks to be glowing as she beams down at him. Jovially, she reveals that she had won two vouchers for a one-time offer of free samples from a little cake and pie shop that had erected itself in Beika a few weeks ago. Shinichi wonders why she could be telling him this when she mentions that their lemon pie has garnered quite the attention. Like a wicked temptress, she’s trying to use his favorite guilty pleasure to lure him out—and, honestly, it’s kind of working.

Although contemplative, he lifts his book, saying he’s not interested in going to such a place. Even when he says as much, Ran pushes him with a gentle touch, startling him because he hadn’t realized where she now stands. She laughs in his ear when he protests. With a grin in her voice, she tells him that she brought over as many free samples as was allowed. Apparently, she has already set them down in the kitchen. On their way there, she lists off all of the flavors and types of goodies she’s managed to seize.

Idly, he wonders if they’ll even be able to finish all that. Then, he remembers that his parents are home, so it’s more than likely that they’ll aid the two teenagers in their quest to sample the sugary concoctions. He relaxes a bit because he doesn’t want to eat too much processed sugars and he doesn’t wish a sugar high upon his friend. Shinichi gives her a half-smile, listening as she raves about this chocolate sponge cake that looked particularly delicious. He asks if she remembered to get the lemon pie and she swats him on the arm, telling him that of course she remembered because it was the first thing she had taken.

•••

_His feet don’t scrape the ground._

_It’s a school day and the lunch hour is currently ongoing. At his desk, he sits, holding his pencil in his right hand with a tight grip. His handwriting loops gently on a page of his notebook in a way that’s rather impressive for someone his age. Clipped to the top of his notebook is a white rectangle of card stock with bold black ink forming words on it. Humming to himself in broken notes, he continues on scribbling out theories._

_At the corner of his desk, a bento box sits, unopened and untouched._

_His phone is out, glaring up at him with its bright screen. On it, a jewel is pictured with a brief description of it and the exhibition it will appear in. He glances at it for a moment before opening a new tab, looking up something about Roman mythology. With deft fingers, he scrolls through a source, finding the story he was searching for. Then, he scribbles something down before encircling it with a flourish._

_Feeling quite giddy inside, he realizes that he had deciphered the meaning. Having now cracked the code, he leans back, resigning himself to relaxation. He looks to the clock on his phone, realizing there’s still eleven minutes of lunchtime left. Within him, his mood dims as he returns to the real world. Around him, he watches his classmates conversing with each other over almost-empty lunches and his teacher is tucked away behind his desk, writing up lesson plans._

_The young boy looks down at his lap, feeling a burning embarrassment as he remembers where he is. He slumps in his seat, looking up briefly just so he can close his notebook and put it away for safekeeping. Then, he leans forward, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow, bringing his knees closer together. His hunger disappeared the moment lunch began. Now, with ten minutes to waste, he closes his eyes and relaxes his muscles._

•••

His parents left to go to one of his father’s book signings.

Shinichi waits patiently by the window, looking out and waiting for the gates to open. As always, every Thursday afternoon, which is when she has neither karate practice nor any other places to be, she comes over to the mansion. It takes her no longer than thirty-six minutes to get from Teitan High to his family estate. Sometimes she stops by the market to pick up some groceries so that she can cook a nice meal for him, which lengthens her arrival time to about an hour and a half depending on how much she’s buying. And school had let out forty minutes ago.

He doesn’t go to school. Instead, he does homeschooling and has been for years. His curriculum follows that of Teitan High, although he does skip around when he gets bored. He teaches himself with a bit of guidance from his parents, who are more than capable of teaching him. Even so, he’s not the most genius of genius so he does have to consult the books and cross-reference them with reliable sources on the internet if he finds himself unable to understand something. At the end of it, he’ll speak with Ran or his parents if he’s still unable to figure it out.

Looking at the clock, he calculates the time she should be arriving. He guesses that she’ll be here in the next thirty minutes if she’s at the market. Funny, though, as he doesn’t recall her telling him that she’ll be making a detour. She likes to mother hen him, which includes making sure he knows her whereabouts and vice versa. Idly, he wonders if she just wanted to surprise him or if she had somehow forgotten. He’d text her if he didn’t feel so awkward about doing so.

Seconds tick by and he eventually leans against the windowsill. His breath fogs up the glass in little puffs. He humors himself by drawing little caricatures and watching as they fade away until he breathes hot breath on the glass once more. Another glance outside tells him that neither Ran nor his parents have arrived. He frowns, wondering if something might be wrong.

Hesitating, he picks up his phone where it lay in his lap. He finds her number within his short list of contacts and his finger hovers above it. Shinichi looks out the window once more, seeing nothing. Biting his lip, he presses against the screen with a light touch. The call sequence begins but it doesn’t connect. He fears for the worst as different scenarios play out in his head. It’s not hard for him to get creative with ways that she may be in danger.

His skins burns and his hands won’t stop with the small tremors. What if she’s—! She could be—! But he—!

With such thoughts and ideas plaguing his mind, he shakes his head and proceeds to push away from the window before rushing to reach the door. In his haste, he forgets that it’s been so long since he’s dared to leave the mansion. These past years, he’s only looked longingly outside in from the windows and occasionally through any open doors when the opportunity is presented. He finds himself just about to go down when he crumbles on the inside, telling himself that he can’t do it.

He looks at his phone, he sees Ran’s caller ID displayed, flashing at him. He picks up. On the other end, she apologizes frantically, saying she’s on her way. Her excuse is that she had run into a funny pair of teenagers around their age while at the market. Shinichi holds his phone away for a moment, trying to seize back his heart that seems to hammer in his chest. Her voice is loud enough to carry through as she asks if he’s okay. He tells her that, yes, he’s fine and that he understands.

For a moment, he thinks to snap at her, telling her that she should have remembered because it should be a habit by now. Shinichi stops himself as he realizes how spiteful and unlike him that sounds. Before she can reply, he says that he’ll see her when she arrives and hangs up. Something inside of him relaxes as he breaths out, sending ripples of relief through him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. The Author!Shinichi AU isn’t the most original—I know. :)
> 
> This idea has been in my head for literal months. Currently, my idea is to make another one of my overgrown oneshots. So, this is just a preview. I’ve written at least three versions of this since late 2017. If you had seen the first draft, you’d realize why I’m having so much trouble writing this.
> 
> I’ve read other portrayals of an Author!Shinichi. All of them include Kid being one of Shinichi’s characters who have suddenly “come to life”. 
> 
> Well, no, that’s not how it goes in here because I’m too lazy to figure out how or why that would happen. This AU is an Author!Shinichi and Fan!Kaito. :) With a twist. The hints are subtle in here, but perhaps you could figure it out?
> 
> The twist is me combining two of my story ideas in one. The twist adds in angst. Shinichi’s story is of a jewel thief and a prodigious child (an actual child) who has access to gadgets from his eccentric neighbor. His story also has some sort of hidden angsty symbolism which you probably can’t figure out until you read the rest of this story, which I have yet to write. :p
> 
> Anyway, it’s almost 3 am. Whoops. Btw, don’t expect updates everyday. I’m just posting ideas that I either have already written or ideas I write in the spur of the moment. I have another idea written, but it has an uneven number of words and if I post that it’s going to bother me until I edit. Haha.


	4. IV

Upon arrival, Conan peeks into Kogoro’s office to find him passed out on his desk with his right hand curled around a can of beer that’s more likely to be empty than not. The acrid smell of tobacco smoke and the sour stench of the alcohol permeates the air, making him gag even though he should be used to it at this point. The old television is playing on full volume, blasting an ad for some new chocolate starring the old man’s favorite idol. Over that, the grumbling gumshoe’s snoring cuts through like a knife. Wisely, the little detective closes the door.

After having spent about three hours against his will in the park playing soccer with the kids, he’s worked up quite the appetite. It had been a two v. two with Genta and Mitsuhiko against Ayumi and Conan. Haibara had sat out and none of the kids dared to sway her decision. The entire time, she had her nose deep in a catalogue in which the cover looked suspiciously like a photograph of _Fusae_ ’s new travel line complete with luggage bags, handbags, wallets, and the like. The detective knew better than to say anything about it lest she somehow manipulates him into buying the entire collection to gift to her.

He ambles up the steps, wondering to himself if Ran has returned from the karate practice she informed him of having. From what he recalls, she told him that she would be returning about two hours after school ended. Unless he’s mistaken, she should be here by now. In fact, she should be in her room by now or even preparing dinner as it’s nearing time for her to do so. He opens the door to the living quarters on the second floor of the agency and kicks off his shoes. As he shakes off his backpack, Conan glances around, seeing that she isn’t preparing a meal or setting the table.

He notices her shoes are tucked away in the small cupboard, which prompts him to place his own in one of the free spaces. Conan decides that she must be in her room then—maybe she’s doing homework or talking to Sonoko on the phone; that’s all she ever seems to do these days when she returns from school and practice. Making up his mind, he walks over to her room, suppressing a yawn as he reaches her door. He raises his right hand to knock when he hears a soft noise from behind the door.

She’s crying. Again.

His hand stills, freezing only a few centimeters from the wooden surface. Now that he’s acknowledged the sound, its volume increases in his ears. His arm goes weak, falling to his side to dangle as he listens to her muffled cries. In his head, he tells himself to move away and give her a moment of privacy. In his head, he tells himself to move away so he can call her as Shinichi. Despite the silent urgings he gives himself, he remains in his spot with his feet planted on the ground, rooting him to the spot as if he were a tree.

Inside of him, his heart clenches and his stomach twists in a manner he can only deem as uncomfortable. Her crying strikes a chord, sending a pain to his heart that makes his teeth ache. His right hand reaches for his shirt, grasping the fabric just above his heart and clenching the cloth. Against his better judgement, he calls out her name. On his tongue, it tastes sour and his voice sounds soft and quiet. As soon as he speaks, her crying ceases. She knows that he heard her, he’s sure of it. While Ran might not be a detective, she’s smart enough to figure out that much.

Moments later, the door opens and he stumbles back, his fingers losing strength and detaching from his shirt. Ran appears in the doorway, gripping the door with both hands and looking down at him with watery eyes and a tight-lipped smile. Behind her, the room is darkened with all the lights off, speckled with sunlight from behind her curtains. For some reason, his mouth goes dry, but he equates it to the way he can see some tear tracks drying on her face.

“Conan-kun, you’re home,” she says, her voice wavering a little at the end. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

He heard her hidden question. In reply, he says, “I just got back,” in a voice far too enthusiastic and far too childlike. “Nē, Ran-nēchan, can we make dinner? I’m hungry!”

“Yes, of course,” she responds, giving him a soft smile. “You were out with the kids playing soccer, right? Did you have fun?”

Leave it to Ran to ask about someone else’s day when it’s clear that her own might not have been too enjoyable, Conan thinks to himself. “Did you have fun today, Ran-nēchan?” he asks, avoiding her own question. He looks away to give her a moment to dry her face without his piercing eyes watching her. He can see her arm moving though. She tells him that her day hasn’t been any different and that practice was hard today for the purpose of preparing the members for an upcoming competition. Then, she beckons him towards the kitchen, saying that he’ll be her little helper today and that he can help cut the vegetables if he’s careful.

He climbs onto the step-stool that grants him enough height to be able to reach the countertop. His chopping isn’t as smooth and effortless as Ran’s, but he tries his best as she stirs the pot. Conan notices that she isn’t humming like she always would whenever cooking. This fact doesn’t help ease the worry because it’s now clear that something is definitely wrong—if the crying hadn’t been enough indication, of course. He stops in the middle of slicing a carrot, holding the knife still.

“Shinichi-niichan called me today.”

“He... called you?” Conan can tell that Ran froze a bit, even if his back is turned to her. “Shinichi called you?”

“He said he was going to call you after me but then he had to leave,” he lies, feeling the heaviness of the fib. “I told him to call you soon because I know you have a competition coming up and that you might like it if he wished you luck.” He starts back up with his chopping, needing a reason to move his hands and occupy them. “He... he said that you’re amazing.”

She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds after that. The only sounds would be the off-rhythm chopping and their breathing. With a silent voice, he almost begs for her to not cry anymore and that she’ll be sated by his words.

“He doesn’t think you’ll need any luck because he knows you’re gonna win,” Conan says, quivering in his spot. He hopes that she doesn’t turn around. “He said not to tell you that though. I think he’s shy.”

“Did he say anything else?” Ran inquires, a certain note in her voice that makes his eyes clench shut. “That Shinichi... he’s bad at expressing his feelings, huh?”

Conan wonders if saying sorry will make matters worse. Remembering just how much those words had angered her, he makes the wise decision to withhold such sentiments. “He didn’t say anything else.”

He risks a peek behind himself only to see Ran staring absently at the pot, stirring it with a bit of a glow to her. Conan manages to smile softly, drinking in her expression and the picture she’s painting. He doesn’t know if he’d ever say such things to her in his true body. She isn’t far from the truth when she claims that he’s not the best at expressing feelings. His hand tightens around the knife’s handle as he laments on how hard it is for him to keep her happy.

After all, he has a sneaking suspicion that her tears were for him and all that they could have been. When he looks back down at the cutting board, he wonders if it was selfish of him to ask her to wait for him. He would always—no, Shinichi would always say that he doesn’t know when he’ll be back or that he wants her to wait for him before disappearing. Conan sighs, thinking that maybe all this waiting could be worth it in the end.

Though, he wonders when the end will be. His eyes zero in on his hands and fingers, thinking about how small they are. He looks at his wrists—they’re so small and delicate looking. Conan reflects on how much longer he has to be this way. In this body and this situation, he and Ran are so far apart, even if they’re standing in the same room. Take now, for example, she’s standing a mere few feet behind him and yet the distance is too much between Ran and Shinichi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call this If I Could (Tell Her), which is inspired by [If I Could Tell Her](https://youtu.be/B7h7c_L_Yp4) from Dear Evan Hansen.
> 
> Despite how it seems, this isn’t a ShinRan fic. I mean, in the beginning, I guess, but the ending is angsty. :) I love angst.
> 
> But yo, feel free to drop any prompts/ideas down below. I like reading them and I feel like I’ve read every idea on Tumblr. :p


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Talks Of Suicide.

It was twenty-eight minutes past midnight on the first of April when Kid finds out what excitement truly is. Prior to that moment, he thought excitement was finally perfecting a magic trick that is sure to mystify his audience, that excitement was jumping off rooftops and then gliding through the air, that excitement was taking what isn’t his and dodging bullets and handcuffs. In actuality, excitement is three feet tall with blue eyes hiding behind large spectacles and a distinguishable cowlick.

And its name is Edogawa Conan.

Kaito reminisces about that moment a lot, remembering the thrill and adrenaline as he realizes that a child who could be no older than six almost had him cornered within minutes following their introduction. He can recall the smirk on that small face and the expression of surprise when he turns the tables on the little detective. That mind is young and dangerous—the magician can only shudder in regards of just how much sharper that intellect will get when the boy is his current age.

Although, it worries him, really. Kaito knows that many young geniuses often succumb to the claws of depression or something equally as killer if not more. Why, he remembers hearing about a boy only a few years older than the little detective who had been the same—a young prodigious child whose talent and gifts were undeniable. That boy had jumped off a building, overwhelmed by the world on his shoulders.

Sometimes, he fears that the same fate will befall this child. He would need to be blind not to notice how much Conan tries to hide his intelligence around those in his everyday life, not to notice how too grown up Conan is, not to notice how Conan cares very little for his own life compared to that of others. Kaito doesn’t like the idea of a world without the sleuth, but he likes to think that he can trust him not to fall into the clutches of death at his own hand.

That doesn’t stop Kid from watching him at heists.

Tonight, for example, is one of the numerous heists that Conan has attended. The child doesn’t attend every heist, being a kid and all no doubt, but he always makes the heists he does participate in rather interesting; however, tonight is an exception. If not participating, he’ll watch from the sidelines, seeming to find amusement at the task force’s struggle. Participation is a strong word, in this case. It seems more like a pathetic excuse of a performance on his part.

Conan just seems too unmotivated as if he doesn’t want to play their usual game. Even though he’s still chasing him, the usual energy isn’t there. One quick peek at the kid tells Kid that there’s a tiredness to that child’s face and a definite lack of energy in that body. For a moment, the thief thinks to slow down, but he has a jewel to check while the night is still young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Conan, Kid sees an exceptionally brilliant child who tries to hide his intelligence. He sees someone who seems to be ashamed of being smart and has trouble fitting in with their peers. He doesn’t know Conan is Shinichi.
> 
> So, let’s get on with the story: Conan seems very tired and unmotivated at a heist. Little does Kid know, the Org has been taken down. Conan’s apparent lack of energy and enthusiasm is him recovering and being disappointed that he isn’t Shinichi yet.
> 
> So, this goes on for a few months because even with the info she needs, it’ll take a while to make an antidote. Idk, it’s just a head canon of mine, don’t hate.
> 
> And thus, Conan is just so unhappy and seems kind of dejected. I mean, maybe it’s OOC, but this is fanfiction people. Besides, he’s probably imagined that as soon as the Org is down, he’d have his body back. He’s just really tired of being Conan now that he doesn’t have to hide, but he can’t just go out and be like, “Hey, my name isn’t actually Edogawa Conan and I’m not actually six.”
> 
> So, he goes to a few heists whenever he’s invited by old man Suzuki (read: forced by Sonoko to capture her “Kid-sama”) and he’s always seeming less than thrilled.
> 
> Then, Haibara reveals that she’s close to finding an antidote, which brings Conan back to his usual self—that’s also because Haibara chastises him for worrying everyone. So, a few more months pass (read: probably like 2) and in the heists during that time, Kid notices just how happy Conan is? When Haibara creates the best antidote she can, Conan waits until after the next heist to take it so he can thank Kid for his help and for being a great opponent. And he leaves Kid with his watch.
> 
> So, Kid is confused, obviously. Months pass and Conan has not come to even one heist, which makes him worry. I mean—long period of low, then a sudden period of high; lack of enthusiasm and interest; seemingly constant tiredness; giving away a “prized possession”; etc... You can’t blame Kid that much, right?
> 
> This idea isn’t meant to poke fun at mental illness—especially since that’d hypocritical of me.


	6. VI

He’s going to die.

Shinichi gasps, his hand moving to claw at the fabric above his heart as another wave of pain hits. He feels as thought his insides are melting and his skin feels like it’s on fire. In the back of his mind, he wonders if this is what spontaneous human combustion feels like. In another part of his mind, he just thinks that he’s going to die. In fact, he’s almost sure of it; he’s going to die.

The pain is great—so great that it renders him speechless and only capable of strangled groans. The world around him convulses and his temperature feels so high he’s almost certain that he’s steaming. Shinichi’s fingers grasp at the ground, gathering dirt under his fingernails and uprooting the grass. He always imagined dying on the field with honor and dignity in order to save someone else or passing away due to old age with his family by his side—maybe some terminal sickness if he were unlucky. Never had he imagined going like this—alone, in excruciating pain, and all due to his stupidity.

He curses himself for not noticing the man sneaking up from behind. If he lives, he’ll fix it; he’ll heighten his senses and he’ll seldom be caught off guard again. Heh, how pathetic is it that he’s speaking in a hypothetical sense.

Shinichi has to live—he just has to!

The image of Ran flashes in his head. He manages one wry smile as he thinks of his best friend. Shinichi had promised to catch up to her, but it’s quite possible that that won’t be happening—and he truly is sorry for that. Before he blacks out, one final thought echoes in his head.

 _Live_.

•••

Kaito was sitting at his desk, listening to his mother rave about the country she’s in over a video call, when his right wrist tingles. He gestures for the chattering woman to quiet down with his left hand. Earlier, the words on his wrist had turned to _find the culprit_ , which is an almost daily occurrence. It figures that a thief would have a detective of some sort as a soulmate. As he waits for the words to change, he feels a creeping dread. The words begin to morph into _live_ with a screaming agony that sings in his veins.

He grabs his wrist, gripping it with a tight hold as he cries out. His outburst startles his mother, who immediately begins to ask questions out of a frenzied worry. The feeling is overwhelming; much so that he ends up clawing at the skin on his wrist, unknowing of what’s going on. Never had he ever experienced such a feeling.

Then, it stops. He blinks wearily, realizing that tears had welled up in his eyes. And he loosens his hold, dropping his arms on the desk. Kaito still feels phantom feelings of pain and angst. Quickly, he looks to his soulmark.

His wrist is blank. The words are gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you didn’t get the gist of it, this is a soulmate AU where your soulmate’s greatest goals/thoughts appear on your wrist and they’re always changing whenever a new one appears.
> 
> If I’m gonna write this, it will probably be two fics. One in Shinichi’s POV and one in Kaito’s.
> 
> My idea for this is that the soulmarks appear when a person turns 10? 13? 16? But I might also rewrite this where the soulmark is there from birth, so you grow up knowing your soulmate’s aspirations and such. It depends.
> 
> The first idea, which is written here, is more angsty since Kaito would think that his soulmate has died. The second idea is probably going to be very mysterious cuz Kaito will be seeing things about the Org and Conan would be seeing things about Snake and heists. Idk which I like better. 
> 
> I think this is actually the first KaiShin prompt yet? Yes, I ship KaiShin. Read the tags. The other ideas, if I remember correctly, can be written with and without KaiShin. :)


	7. VII

It figures that he’d be stuck on babysitting duty.

Again.

Conan tightens his grip on the child leash while trying his best to keep his eye from twitching. He watches as the child on the other end runs around as much as she’s able to, grabbing at air and squealing with delight. “Oi oi, Santa-san,” he chides. “You need to be careful. Ran-nēchan will kill me if I let you get hurt while she’s training with her team.”

As expected, the child ignores him. Although, she does stop for a moment to stare at him before breaking out into some jovial skipping. Forced to comply with her moments, Conan follows her, trudging along as she skips towards an ice cream truck. He groans, knowing fully well that she wants a treat. He rethinks about that, realizing she might actually sit down for a few minutes to enjoy it. Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t have the money. Not only does he get some allowance from Ran in reward for his good grades, but he gets a private monthly check from his parents.

And it’s not like he needs the money either. Even as a child, he had little to no interest in materialistic things if they weren’t new books or soccer-related. He can throw away a few bills and coins to get the toddler an ice cream just so he can get a few minutes on a park bench.

“You better brush your teeth before bed, okay?” he says, pulling out his wallet while keeping a tight hold on the leash. “Santa-san, which flavor would you like?”

She points a chubby finger at one of the pictures on the menu. Chocolate. How typical. With a small smile, Conan gives her order to the worker as well as his own. Contrary to popular belief, his favorite ice cream flavor is strawberry—not coffee and not vanilla. It’s not very often that he treats himself, so he might as well today. He drops the coin change in the tip jar as he doesn’t like carrying too much; it’s a hassle to take care of if they spill out from his wallet or pocket.

Conan takes the cones, holding them in both hands while leading Santa-san to a park bench and pointedly ignoring her grabbing hands. As soon as they’re both settled, he hands her her ice cream and tells her to sit down so she doesn’t make a mess. He think to tie the leash to the armrest so he can get a few napkins, but thinks twice when he realizes he’d rather not risk having her run off given that the last time she did, she almost fell into the road.

Besides, he has a handkerchief. He can always replace it or wash it when he gets home.

“Eat up,” he says.

“Yeah!” she cheers, digging in.

He watches her, smiling slightly before he too begins to enjoy his treat. The sweet taste of strawberry reminds him of childhood with Ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve probably only seen one fic with Santa-san. And that was after I remembered that she exists.
> 
> Headcanon that Conan actually like strawberry ice cream... only cuz I remember him eating pink ice cream during an opening credits.
> 
> Also, did you know, his favorite food is lemon pie and his favorite drink is iced coffee? All the fics I’ve read have brainwashed me into thinking he likes straight black coffee. I know he’s had coffee before in front of Kogoro and Ran. *shrugs*
> 
> This isn’t really a fic. It’s more like “Santa-san is cute. Maybe someone should write some friendly fluff between Conan and Haruka-chan.” I really only wrote this so I could have 7k words.
> 
> I literally wrote this in like fifteen minutes. Whoops. Sorry. :)


	8. VIII

“We broke up.”

With a fixed stare, Ran looks at him, her face contorted in some weird expression as she tries to determine whether or not he’s being serious. By the looks of it, she’s leaning more towards the idea that this isn’t a joke. He knows what thoughts are going through her mind because her features soften and she wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace not unlike the ones he had given him.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, squeezing a little tighter. “I never thought that—well, you and Kaito-kun... you were...”

“Don’t be, Ran.” Shinichi inhales through his nose and lets out a quivering breath. At his side, his hands ball up as he refuses to shake. “I thought we were fine—better than fine, actually. Yesterday. He called me yesterday.” She pulls away, holding him at arm’s length. “He said we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

Ran releases his arms. Her lips twist into a scowl and she bares her teeth, grinding them out of anger. She’s angry—angry for his sake. “I’ll kill him,” she declares. “ _I’ll tear him apart with my bare—_ ”

“I’d rather not have to assist the police in arresting my best friend, Ran,” he responds, managing to smile. He takes one of her hands and begins to pull her towards the aquarium’s entrance. While he does want to get on with it and look at the marine life, he mostly just doesn’t want her to see how his eyes water. “But thank you.”

She doesn’t say anything but instead matches pace with him so that they’re side-by-side. He turns his head ever-so-slightly, avoiding her gaze because Kudō Shinichi doesn’t cry. Shinichi doesn’t remember the last time he ever cried and he’s not going to make that moment now—not here.

“Have you tried asking him why?” she asks, her voice soft and quiet as if she thinks any louder will shatter him; she might as well try. “Or did he already tell you?”

“I’ve tried reaching him but he won’t answer.” Shinichi ducks his head, walking faster without even thinking. Then, he stops in the middle of the area and people walk around the pair. “I think he blocked me.”

She frowns, pulling out her phone and entering her password in quicker than Shinichi can comprehend. He looks at her with wide eyes, saying, “Wait, Ran, don’t bother. He probably—” when she holds up a finger and presses her phone against her ear. He doesn’t say anything more, but as much as he’d like to get some answers, he doesn’t know how to feel if it’s only him that Kaito’s unwilling to speak with.

“ _The number you are trying to reach is una—_ ”

She clicks her phone off. “He’s lucky that he lives in Ekoda,” she remarks before her eyes brighten. As if her mood took a complete turn, she beams at him. “Let’s go look for the jellyfish.”

Shinichi only stumbles after her, calling out her name as she marches onward.

•••

“Did anyone else hear the rumor that Kudō Shinichi died?” In his seat, Kaito blinks, sitting upright and attentive. The class is on break and everyone has since moved to talk to their friends. A little of what he hears is mundane inquiries about one’s mornings; a little of what he hears is questions about homework; a little of what he hears is gossip.

“He disappeared a few months ago, I’ve heard. The last time anyone has heard from him was probably that case in Tropical Land. You heard, right? Some guy got his head sliced clean off on some roller coaster?

Kaito remembers that case; it took place not long after he ended his two-year relationship with the detective. From what he had heard, Shinichi had taken his friend there as a congratulations for winning her karate tournament. He hasn’t heard from the other in a while, but that’s a given.

(It’s for the best, he tells himself.)

“Rumor has it that he died. Like, he got in over his head on some case. Tabloids are all talking about it ‘cause usually you’d hear about some new case he’s cracked.”

Aoko seems to have picked up on the hearsay tittle tattles. She furrows her brows and looks to Kaito as she’s well aware of their relationship. “Isn’t Kaito dating Shinichi-kun?” The girl has met the other boy a number of times whenever he visited Ekoda. She knows that both boys met around the age of eleven, which is when there was a happenstance introduction between the two during a run-in between both boys’ mothers and the boys themselves. “Shinichi-kun can’t be dead, otherwise Kaito would be moping.”

“We broke up months ago,” he says. He itches to pull out his phone, unblock the other, and call to make sure he’s okay. “I don’t care about him.” Kaito notices the look in her eyes and backtracks. “Shinichi didn’t do anything, Ahoko. Don’t get mad at him.” He’s not the one to be mad at. “I don’t know if the rumors are true, but there’s no way he died.”

From nearby, a certain detective’s voice drifts in. “I wasn’t aware that you were once in association with Kudō-san,” says Hakuba. “I’m surprised that he would mingle with the likes of you.”

“Piss off, Hakuba,” Kaito retorts, narrowing his eyes. It’s just like the detective to accuse him to bring Kid; although, he isn’t wrong there. “Shinichi isn’t—he doesn’t...”

The other shrugs. “Say what you will, Kuroba. As I’ve heard, no missing reports have been created concerning Kudō-kun, so I’m sure he’s okay. Perhaps he’s gotten tired of the fame or is currently incapacitated with some ailment.” Hakuba hums. “I wonder if he’s as good of a detective as they say. After all, his family name is a household one, he has money, and he’s attractive; it’s no wonder he’s popular.”

Kaito bristles. Sure, Shinichi has all those advantages and more, but he definitely earned all his titles. Detective of the East. Heisei Holmes. Savior of the Police Force. All of that is him. Shinichi is brilliant and definitely on his way to becoming one of the greatest if not the greatest mind of the century. The looks, the name—it’s all just coincidence and luck. That mind is more sharp and powerful than anyone could know and that eye is critical and sees through all.

“He’s definitely better than you’ll ever be,” he says in a desert-dry voice. “Anyway, enough about him. Have you seen...”

•••

“ _Kudō Shinichi here. Sorry I can’t make it to the phone right now. If—_ ” Again. “ _Kudō Shinichi here. Sorry I can’t make it to the phone right no—_ ” Why isn’t he picking up? “ _Kudō Shinichi here. Sorry I can’t make it to the pho—_ ” One more time. “ _Kudō Shinichi here. Sorry I can’t—_ ” Last time. “ _Kudō Shini—_ ”

•••

In the phantom thief’s wake, Conan stands on the rooftop, surrounded by officers who are yelling. Their words are lost to him as his heart pounds in his ears. His palms are slick with sweat and his jaw is going to fall open if he doesn’t get a hold on himself in the next few minutes.

(The shape of that jaw had been defined in the moonlight. The mass of hair still tousled and messy, even underneath the wide brimmed hat. The curve of those lips pulled into an amused smirk engraved in his brain. The color of those eyes glowed in his mind.)

There’s no mistaking it: Kid is Kaito. Kaito is Kid. Kaitō Kid is _Kaito_ Kid.

An officer grabs a hold of his shoulders, asking if he’s all right and inquiring as to what he’s doing out so late. Apparently, grade schoolers should be in bed and if they wished to leave the house after evening, then they should be wearing something more than shorts as bottoms because nights are chilly and even more so on a rooftop where air is thinner and where breezes flow by.

For one reason or another, Conan is speechless.

Was... was Kid—Is Kid the reason Kaito broke up with Shinichi?

(Shinichi is a detective. Kid is a criminal. Good and bad. Lawful and unlawful.)

Inside, Shinichi wants to scream. He thought—he thought he finally accepted the fact that Kaito is no longer there for him. He thought he was done. He had closure— _closure!_ Now... now he just wants answers. Now he has questions.

(He can’t just call him. Shinichi doesn’t exist. Right now, Shinichi is missing. Right now, Shinichi is on a case that’s monopolizing all of his attention and time.)

“Hey, Boy, are you okay? Do you need someone to call your parents?”

Conan runs. He’s not supposed to be out. Like a good little boy, he should be in bed. If Ran finds out, she’s not going to be very happy with him. He doesn’t wish to disappoint her.

(If Kid is the reason, then does Kaito still hold feelings for him?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t remember writing this. I think I wrote it last night before I succumbed to the claws of sleep.
> 
> This was inspired by [Prompt 9 Of Maru_Chan’s prompt collection](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10671237/chapters/24493380). It was unintentional as I thought this idea up, but then I realized that it sounded similar to something I had read before. :p
> 
> So, for this, Kaito and Shinichi have known each other prior to the series beginning. Though, I don’t want to make them childhood buddies because I want for Kaito to be ignorant to the fact that Conan is Shinichi.
> 
> Basically, they met around age 11 and began a very cute and innocent relationship at the age of 14, around the time of the Week Long Fight™ between Ran and Shinichi.
> 
> So, Shinichi. He’s still bad when it comes to romance. Before he learns about Kid, expect teenage angst as he worries that the reason Kaito broke up with him is because _he wasn’t good enough_. He doesn’t know how to go about doing this and he’s hurt so he doesn’t try to get in contact with Kaito after it becomes apparent that the other is being serious about not seeing each other.
> 
> Kaito. Kaito, Kaito, Kaito. He broke up with Shinichi because he doesn’t want to make him choose between being a good detective and being a good boyfriend. That and he doesn’t think he can dedicate all his time to school, Shinichi, and being Kid. See, if he focuses on being Kid and being a good boyfriend, then his schoolwork might suffer and that would raise suspicions. Obviously, being Kid is really important to him, but so is Shinichi and that’s why Kaito can’t keep him.
> 
> Or something like that.
> 
> When Conan figures out who Kid is, he begins to get conflicted? He thought he was done, that he’s over Kaito because he has Ran to fall back on until he realizes that A) that’s unfair to her and B) Kaito could still have feelings for him.
> 
> If I ever expand upon this, I’ll rewrite this as it’s not my usual style—not unless this becomes an overgrown oneshot, but that’s usually for soulmate aus so. Yeah. This is more like snippets from different scenes.
> 
> I’m curious to see how this would play out honestly. Like, if the movies are canon in this au, how would it go if Kid disguises as Shinichi? What about when Kaito really begins to get worried because he still cares but he’s supposed to pretend he doesn’t care? What about if he sees a temporarily cured Shinichi in horrible shape?
> 
> Anyway. Yes. Thank you for reading my trash.


	9. IX

Conan screams.

Life isn’t fair—he knows that; if it were, he’d either have his body back by now or he wouldn’t have lost it in the first place. And if life were fair, he’d have confessed to Ran by now and would have been dating her, but instead he’s found himself falling for someone else.

“Whoa, Tantei-kun, it would do me well if you didn’t reveal my location to the good inspector.”

He spins on his heel, chest heaving as he locks eyes with a certain thief who is currently stretching across the window’s ledge. “Kid,” he says, acknowledging the other. His ears color red.

“So, what brings you here?” The thief sits up, one leg still on the ledge and the other dangling out the other side where nothing but empty space hangs. “It’s rather late, isn’t it? And quite out of your jurisdiction as well. I’m certain I saw neither hide nor hair of Mouri-chan.”

Conan angles his head down, watching the other watch him. He huffs, biting his lip as he searches for something to say. Then, he averts his gaze, tearing his eyes away from the other’s captivating stare. “It’s not longer safe for me to remain in Japan,” he admits, shrugging as he turns his back to 1412. “For lack of better words, I came to say goodbye.”

He feels the weighted scrutiny on his back, pushing down on him. Slowly, he inhales through his nose, waiting for someone to speak. Kid decides to do so with a carefully spoken, “And why exactly, my dear Tantei-kun, is it no longer safe for you?” that cuts through the thick tension.

“I’m afraid that information is on a strict need to know basis,” he snarks, taking a few steps towards the door. “When—” he pauses “—if this all blows over, perhaps I’ll tell you.” Conan dares to look over his shoulder as his hand grasps the knob before twisting it. “I doubt you’ll be able to complete whatever conquest it is you’re on if you’re dead.”

“Wait, Tantei-kun, what do you—” The other’s words are lost as the door slams behind him.

Conan picks up speed, walking faster and faster. Both hands make their way into his pocket and he keeps his eyes on the ground, staring at his small feet inside his trainers. He removes both hands, one drawing a cloth mask from its pocket and he fixes it on before pulling up his hood. Outside, a block or two away from the heist location, Agasa is waiting for him in the cover of darkness; it helps greatly that the man had finally recovered that Persian rug that had been taken from him as evidence a few months ago, which meant that he could finally replace his old beetle with something a little less obnoxious and eye-grabbing.

The detective sighs. He hadn’t wanted this last meeting to be so abrupt, but time is of the essence. Every wasted second is another second risking his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who has writer’s block? :)
> 
> I’ve no idea where I’m going with this. The idea is that there’s a mole within Conan’s small circle of people in the know, which prompts him to go into hiding.
> 
> So, Conan realizes that someone in his circle has been contacting the Org. Since this is putting him in greater danger, he decides that it’ll be best if Edogawa Conan goes into hiding as well.
> 
> And this happens at a bad time: when Conan realizes he’s starting to gain feelings for a certain thief. He says his goodbye, but he doesn’t want to stop coming to these heists even though he knows he should. So, maybe he starts coming, watching from afar, and confronting Kid in private where the latter tries to figure out what’s going on.
> 
> Maybe Kid starts worrying for Conan and tries to search for him because he doesn’t know what the other is involved in but wants to help regardless.
> 
> In the end, there would probably be some Org showdown going on.
> 
> I kind of just want to see a fic where one of Conan’s most trusted allies turns out to be a mole.


	10. X

Curiosity is quite the color on a child and Shinichi wears it well.

His mother had sat the both of them down in front of a television with one of her old shows playing on it. Since the title screen came on, she took to playing with his hair and occasionally bouncing him on her knees. By now, he’s watched the series at least three times, which says a lot about how much time the mother-son duo have as there are over one hundred forty-five minute episodes. Not that it matters, as he’s entertained by the mystery aspect as she just loves watching one of her many shows.

“Kāsan?” he says, interrupting the inner monologue of the on-screen detective, which just so happens to be one of his mother’s past roles.

“What is it, Shin-chan?” she asks, pausing the video and bringing him closer. She giggles when he starts squirming at the closeness. Despite the urgings, she resists from turning him around so she can pinch his cheeks. Eventually, he stops his struggle, resigning to the fact that he’s her personal teddy bear.

“Why do we have numbers?” Shinichi inquires, referring to the print on their wrists. His mother isn’t surprised at his question; it’s a standard question for the young to ask as their wrists are seldom covered until they’re old enough to begin attending the first grade.

Yukiko falls silent, staring at her wrist. Underneath a gold bracelet gifted by her husband, 197973:20:12 is at a standstill on her skin in a cursive font colored in a stunning shade of grey. Her eyes land on the exposed surface on Shinichi’s left arm where his own numbers lay. 30667:15:49 winks at the both of them before the third number climbs up. She smiles, looking at the whimsically smooth swirl of indigo ink on his small wrist.

“Well, Shin-chan, they’re sort of like stopwatches. Do you know how those work?”

The boy mulls over that for a moment before declaring that he does. With utter confidence, he says, “They count time and then you stop them,” and finishes off with a definite nod. “Tōsan said so once.”

“Bingo,” she says in English, drawing out the last syllable. “See, Shinichi, these stopwatches are special because they’re counting time until one meets their soulmate. They keep counting up until you and your soulmate look each other in the eyes.”

Shinichi, who is young and still lacking knowledge in the soulmate department, asks what exactly the word means. Yukiko thinks on this, wondering the best way to explain without diving into a winded explanation that her son might be unable to follow. When an idea strikes down, lighting up her head as lightning does to the sky, she picks him up, seating him so that they can continue this conversation eye-to-eye. The mother speaks, imparting knowledge onto him.

“Your soulmate is quite literally the other half of your soul,” says she, informing him of the significance of the word. “At least, that’s what humans have been saying for centuries. Your father is mine, of course.”

Wrinkling his nose, Shinichi remarks on how stupid that sounds. He asks how one would know when their stopwatch ( _—soulmark, she interrupts—_ ) stops if they aren’t looking at it. Yukiko only smiles, letting out a dreamy sigh as the romantic side of her blooms in the sun of remembrance. The child looks at her with an odd expression, wondering what could bring such a look to her face. He’s only ever seen the look whenever his father decided to woo her with a romantic gesture of some sort.

“If you happen to look someone in the eyes then you’ll just know,” she replies in a light voice, recalling the day when she and Yūsaku had locked eyes. It’s with great confidence that she can say the breath was knocked out of her at the exact moment their eyes made contact. “Once you meet, it’s hard to ignore your soulmate.” Her eyes twinkle as she grins down at him. “Once you meet, it won’t be so stupid.”

“Yeah, okay.” Shinichi frowns, turning himself around and hitting the play button on the remote. Yukiko squeals, pointing out that this is the dramatic moment in her character’s deduction, which he knows as he’s seen this episode thrice already. He doesn’t hear the character’s thoughts weaving together into a tight rope that traps the culprit, tying them down with a knot called justice.

Not too long ago, he met a girl named Mouri Ran. The other is a force to be reckoned with despite being not that much older than he is. Despite their differences, he found himself beginning to like her as more than just a friend. Shinichi knows now that he and the tomboyish girl were never meant to be anything more than friends—although, maybe siblings in all but blood and name will suffice. Having found some peace in that, he relaxes and looks back to the screen in time to see the criminal being handcuffed and the credits rolling in.

The two of them grow up, talking about their soulmarks whenever they had nothing else to talk about. At some point, the both of them confess to have liked each other prior to learning about the meaning of a soulmark. One of those days, Ran makes an offhand comment about how some people defy whatever it is the number on their wrist tells them and get together with someone who is most definitely not their soulmate. After that, they both fall silent and the topic of soulmates and marks disappears as if they’re afraid the other will suggest the idea—she always hated the subject of soulmates and marks anyway; it’s a wonder why she even dared to broach the topic.

It just doesn’t seem right, they both think, to steal someone away from Fate; although, they both realize it can’t be helped. Love is, after all, an odd thing. And so are soulmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this what I think it is? If you guessed a remastered and rewritten version of [Measured In Moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11410887), then you are correct!!
> 
> Okay, so, MIM. The first story I posted on ao3 simply because FFN wouldn’t let me make a document with 10k words.
> 
> I noticed, last month, that it had been a year since I posted it. I distinctly remember promising people that I would write Kaito’s POV, which I never got to. :/ I wish to do that now, but first, I wanted to rewrite MIM because it’s not my best work.
> 
> Last night, even though I’m still suffering from writer’s block, I dug through and found my 2k word draft of the rewrite. As of now, it’s at 9.6k words and I’ve just finished the scene on the Queens Elizabeth. I think it’s safe to say that this rewrite will be somewhere from 15k to 20k. So... another overgrown oneshot. :) I would have posted a longer preview, but I feel that this will suffice.
> 
> Basically, if you never read MIM, this is a soulmate AU in which everyone bears a mark on their wrist that takes the form of a stopwatch, which counts up until the moment when soulmates lock eyes.
> 
> There’s attempted angst, humor, and everything in between.
> 
> Also, note, the reason Ran doesn’t like the subject of soulmates is because her parents are soulmates and yet they’re still separated and she thinks it’s unfair.
> 
> I’m hoping for the rewrite to jump around less and to have more development because oOF. Aka, the rewrite is looking much better than the original and I hope anyone who’s read the original is as excited as I am for the rewrite’s final product.


	11. XI

When the media uses the phrase _Kid’s Natural Enemy_ , they don’t know just how deep it runs.

Sipping contentedly at his coffee, the little detective sets down this morning’s paper, sighing as he says, “If only they knew,” and places his mug down. “If it weren’t for this body, I’d prove just how _natural_ I can really be.”

“Oi, oi.” Agasa’s head pops out of the bathroom where he’s been listening in as he works on fixing the shower head. “Shinichi, your body can’t handle the levels you’d exude.”

Conan sighs once more, dropping his chin in his hand. “I know. If not for that, I’d have been back in my body before this mess could escalate even further.” He snorts. “Even if I could use it all, I’d still have to go into hiding—even more so than I do now.” Stretching out his free arm, he examines his hand before doing a complicated gesture, causing a small yet impressive fireworks display in a rather fetching shade of blue. “Sorcerers are natural enemies of magicians like Kid,” he muses. “As scanty as his tricks are compared to mine, I can’t deny that he’s impressive.” He moves his hands to fold them just beneath his nostrils and his eyes fall shut. “I’d even go so far as to say he’s the only magician I’ve met whose arsenal of party tricks are the only ones to date in which even _I_ have some level of difficulty seeing through them.”

The inventor makes a considering noise in the back of his throat as he mulls over Conan’s backhanded compliments.

At the counter, Conan leans against his left hand, staring down at his coffee before pointing at it with his right index finger. He swirls his digit in complicated shapes and liquid begins to rise out of the cup. Elementary, he thinks, creating little works of art as he fools around.

It’s true that his body is much too small to handle his level of power—if he dares to even try, who knows what may happen; all he knows is that it’s painful and the consequences can be dire. Conan did try to execute a high-tier spell, which resulted in him losing consciousness for almost a week after and left him weakened for the next month. Trying to do something as big as going against the flow of time with his own body may not be the smartest idea.

Although, he’s figured out from experience that he can get away with doing sorceries that require such power if he’s fueled with adrenaline and truly has no option; it’s the only reason he’s been able to do so much of what he’s done without having killed himself in the process. Even then, he exhausts himself, only falling when he knows he’s truly safe.

See, his current body cannot wield the entirety of his power, but it can hold it by storing it away in reserves.

Conan drops the coffee back into the cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorcerer!Conan.
> 
> So, I came up with this idea last month after watching a _Magic Kaito 1412_ episode in which Jii says, “Sorcerers are natural enemies of magicians like us. We have opposed each other for eons. Some sorcerers even detest us for our magic tricks, believing them to be mere shadows of their spells.”
> 
> Combined with remembering that Conan had once been referred to as _Kid’s Natural Enemy_ , well... yeah.
> 
> So, Conan is like Akako, in which he can use magic. I vaguely remember Jii or someone else mentioning the different colors/types of magic, red and blue being two of them. There, Conan uses blue magic because his eyes are blue. Logic.
> 
> Basically this is ironic on so many levels.
> 
> So, the reason he isn’t Shinichi is: he had been recovering from the head injury and having just gotten shrunk, so his main focus was on getting away from the police without using magic; Agasa warns him not to tell anyone and to just go into hiding as he does in canon; sometime after getting taken in by Ran, he attempts to use as much magic as he normally would as Shinichi, which ends up either temporarily weakening him immensely or almost killing him; even when he does transform back, he’s usually sick and/or just too weak and has to get used to his original power balance; plus, he’s never tried anything like reverting back to his original age prior to the shrink for obvious reasons.
> 
> But, when he’s really in a dilemma, he uses as much magic as he possibly can to get himself and anyone else out of trouble. Basically, his magic is the reason he can go against all odds; however, it’s still quite exhausting, but not as much as it would be if he weren’t fueled with adrenaline and desperation among other things, which he can’t just genuinely pull out of nowhere.
> 
> And the reason he’s not gone to look for another sorcerer/witch? A: He doesn’t have anyone currently alive in his family with magic. B: He isn’t willing to tell anyone of his situation, magical or not. C: Perhaps sorcerers with different colored magic don’t get along in this universe. D: If mad science is how he got into this mess, then mad science should be how he gets out.
> 
> Or literally any other BS I can pull out of a hat.
> 
> Also, being a detective had at first been his attempt at making it look as though he rebukes the notion of something such as magic, it became something he thoroughly enjoys.
> 
> And, I like for his parents and Agasa to be aware. Maybe Agasa acts as his assistant, or maybe he’s just trusted enough after seeing an accidental burst of magic or something of the like.


	12. XII

Kaito... Kaito had not been expecting this. At all.

Across from him sits Mouri Ran and Nakamori Aoko, sipping nonchalantly at jasmine green tea and iced shaken hibiscus tea in that respective order. He sets his double chocolate cone down in its cone holder, which is this obnoxious shade of lime green, and leans back in his seat, raising his brows at the both of them.

“You want me to seduce your detective friend?” Kaito reiterates, pursing his lips.

He assumes that this detective friend of Ran’s is none other than Kudō Shinichi, the acclaimed Savior Of The Police Force and the famed Heisei Holmes. From what he recalls, as the female had told him once when they met at a heist due to her mistaking him for someone she knows, Kudō had up and disappeared a little over two years ago and had just returned from wherever he had been.

“Well, maybe not _seduce_ him,” Ran says, her cheeks going pink as she brings her cup closer to her face. “It’s just... I like him. A lot. And, well, I thought when he got back we’d... you know, get together?” Her expression does this complicated maneuver that Kaito would have trouble replicating. “Now, he’s back, but he hasn’t made a move. And my friend, Suzuki Sonoko, wonders if he might be...” She bites her lip. “Gay?”

The magician hides behind a poker face, trying his best to refrain from rolling his eyes or sighing or literally anything to show how annoyed he is because _reasons_. So, just because a guy isn’t showing any interest in a pretty girl means he’s gay? Is that how it is now?

“Aoko knows that Kaito doesn’t _just_ like girls,” says his childhood friend, liesurely sampling her tea. “And Aoko wants to help Ran-chan, so Aoko wants to know if Kaito is willing to help us.”

Ran flushes. “You don’t have to,” she stresses, drumming her fingers against her cup, which is now resting back on the table. Kaito picks up his cone when he notices ice cream dribbling off the side. “It’s stupid of me to ask this of you, anyway.”

“What’s he like?” asks the magician, looking genuinely interested. “I don’t have the, ah, best experience with detectives.”

“He’s... cocky. And a deduction otaku and a nerd for all things Sherlock Holmes.” Kaito grimaces, but she’s quick to try to amend his apparent opinion. “He’s also funny and sweet in his own way and he cares so much about people, even if he pretends not to. Like, he may seem all high and mighty, but he’s actually really shy.” She smiles, looking soft and angelic as her fingers tighten around her drink. “He doesn’t have many friends.”

Kaito nods. Truth be told, he’s really not interested in someone who may just be a Hakuba 2.0, but he is interested in someone who may remind him of his Tantei-kun, who is apparently a relative of Kudō’s.

“For you, Mouri-chan, I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by: [Tables Turned by lightsoul](https://m.fanfiction.net/s/8061690/1/Tables-Turned)
> 
> So, Kaito met Ran when he was at a heist. Long story short, Aoko invited him and he doesn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and takes the opportunity to go as himself so he can have more proof that he isn’t Kid when Ran notices him and mistakes him for Shinichi, beginning a lovely friendship.
> 
> PSA: Because there are so many sexualities and romantic orientations, I’m not going to apply a specific label to either Kaito or Shinichi. I do want our detective to be an _ace_ detective in more ways than one though, which leaves him with an unnamed romantic orientation. ;)
> 
> So, the gist is, Sonoko thinks that Shinichi may be gay or at least likes guys better than he like girls because she likes to think there’s no way any guy would pass up the chance to wife-up her darling Ran (especially given recent and past files and chapters), which she mentions to Aoko, who gets this idea in her head to have Kaito test out that theory by flirting with Shinichi.
> 
> Kaito, at first, just goes because he wants to know what Shinichi knows about Conan since he’s heard from somewhere that the two are related. Then, he notices that Ran’s perception of Shinichi is kind of off (due to his experience as Conan humbling him a bit and just the whole Org ordeal affecting him because it’s his oblivious and tactless self that had gotten him stuck in that mess). Even if he isn’t a detective, he’s curious.
> 
> Eventually, as the story progresses, he starts finding himself falling for Shinichi, but the detective has made it clear that he’s not interested in Ran as he once was, but is, in fact, interested in someone else.
> 
> And Kaito can only wonder who it is while feeling immensely guilty because he isn’t supposed to start catching feelings.


	13. XIII

(Magicians try not to use the same tricks more than once, but Conan isn’t a magician by any means.)

•••

Saguru feels much antsier than usual, which is odd for the one who thinks of himself as cool and composed.

He pulls his anorak tighter around his body and deftly pulling his pocket watch out from within with leather-gloved hands and flipping it open before closing it with an audible click and slipping it back inside its safe place. The heist’s starting time grows nearer with each passing millisecond and he can’t be more unnerved by the air, which seems much too thick and much too thin all at once.

The detective glances over to the corner where little Edogawa stands in a thick winter coat and his woolen aviator hat with its large flaps framing his face and making his glasses seem far too large for his small face. The child seems serene and has even been conversing with people Saguru can only identify as foreign in appearance. He’s entertained the thought of walking over and speaking with his fellow sleuth, but the thought perished when words became cotton in his throat before he could even meet with the other.

Saguru shakes his head and decides to busy himself with other thoughts. If he’s correct, Kid will be appearing at 23 minutes past 2300 hours from the sky. One glance outside the window begs the question of how the thief will pull it off what with the flurry of snow. Idly, he wonders why Edogawa’s guardians have let him out on such a night. And a school night at that.

“Hakuba-niichan!” Small fingers grab the hem of his coat, tugging with just the right amount of force to jostle him from his musings. “Guess what? I’m going to catch Kid tonight!”

“I’d prefer you catch up on some sleep,” says he, looking down at the child whose intelligence may someday surpass his own. “Growing boys should be in bed.” Saguru smiles softly, seeing the way Edogawa’s lips tug downwards ever-so-slightly. “Though, I shall commend you on trying to keep from the cold.”

“Yeah! Kāsan sent me a new coat and hat that she and Tōsan bought! She told me to wear it so I don’t get sick before they take me back home.” The young detective’s lower lip wobbles. “Did you know I’m going back home soon?”

Well, color him surprised. Saguru bends down, dropping to one knee and placing a hand on Edogawa’s head in a reflection of what his father used to do to him when he was young. With a voice far softer than he’d like to admit, he says, “I’m glad you’ll be able to return to your parents’ care. Perhaps they’ll teach you to act more your age,” with the second statement being more of a jest than anything else. “If you don’t catch Kid tonight, I’ll be sure to do so in your stead if you won’t be able to continue pursuit.”

Edogawa brightens and nods. “Thank you, Hakuba-niichan! Kāsan says we’re going to America so I won’t be able to play with Kid anymore,” he explains, crossing his arms. “There’s something I want to tell him before I leave...” The child shudders. “It’s Friday the 13th! There isn’t even a full moon out tonight. Hopefully Kid will be able to fly back home safely.”

“That it is,” says he, not even surprised that this little boy has figured out how the thief plans to leave the premises after securing the gem. “I’m sure Kaitō Kid will be safe. I’m quite... confident in his abilities.” Rising back up, the older detective just nods. “I wish you luck in your endeavor to meet with him one last time, Edogawa-kun.”

The child grins and scampers off, taking with him this sense of foreboding that had been with Saguru for most of the evening. He wonders if Mouri and her father or that heiress friend of hers are in attendance as well. Typically, where Edogawa is, they can’t be very far if it’s at a heist. Anywhere else, he supposes, may be fair game. With a small sigh, his hand reaches in and he pulls out his pocket once more.

Just as he had guessed, only 2 minutes, 49 seconds, and 107 milliseconds have passed and the heist has yet to commence. Soon, the heist will start. And when it starts, Saguru will pursue his target. Hopefully this feeling still digging at his chest isn’t as huge as he feels it may be. Glancing at the time piece once more, he murmurs, “Kuroba, I hope you know what you’re doing,” and shuts it, tucking it back inside.

As the time draws nearer, he finds that Edogawa is no longer in sight, which does worry him, but he knows what the boy is capable of behind that childish front he puts up. The detective purses his lips and counts down the seconds in his head, moving closer to to Nakamori and exchanging pleasantries whilst the minutes escape them. And, soon enough, it’s time.

At exactly 29 seconds past the allotted heist time, a white hat spins through the air before landing in the outstretched hand of a gentleman thief now standing on top of a display case.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” bellows Kid before tacking on, “And others! I present to you, a show of luck on this hapless day!” As his head rises, one hand before his face and clutching the brim of his hat, he grins and asks, “Are you ready?”

“Get him!” shouts Nakamori, pointing angrily and snapping at his men. Kid flashes him a smirk before disappearing in a puff of smoke, leaving an absent jewel in his wake and a very familiar red trainer slipping through a closing door.

Saguru says a few choice words and persists, balefully shoving past any stragglers in his rush to make it to the rooftop where he’ll surely find that thief and that boy.

As he jumps onto the first step, the feeling in his chest increased tenfold and he stops, grasping the railing and listening to what must be Edogawa’s footsteps as he runs up. Saguru calls out as he starts climbing.

A childish and breathless echo of, “Yeah?” rains down on him from above and he asks the child to wait for him at the very least, which elicits the response of, “But then Kid will get away!”

Cursing the youth’s nimbleness and body size that allows him to slip through the smallest of places with ease, Saguru continues the chase, pushing his body because he’s at least fit enough to continue without tiring out. The stairwell isn’t so large that it’ll exhaust him, but the exhibition hadn’t been held anywhere near the top of the building. He finds that there’s only four or five more flights to overcome, but it’s still a little inconvenient.

He can hear shouts coming from inside the exhibition room, which begs the question of what may be happening inside, but he doesn’t dare stop to wonder or turn around to check out the situation. Saguru thinks first of Edogawa, who is still a child despite it all, and it’s his responsibility to make sure that that boy is safe from Kid.

(And from the possible snipers. Saguru isn’t blind! He’s seen them at a select few heists, but they leave no trace and Nakamori prefers not to take him seriously even when he’s built up a reputation as one of Kid’s detectives.)

The second thing on Saguru’s mind is of how cold it is on the rooftop with the frigid winter air and the snow swirling through the air. Beneath his feet, the thin blanket of snow that hasn’t melted crunches, announcing his arrival. He sees Kid’s set of footprints next to child-sized ones. Then, before him, he sees the two, facing each other in their own confident stances.

(It’s predator and prey; it’s Kid and Killer. The two have an interesting relationship. Perhaps Kid understands Edogawa’s struggles as a prodigious child? If Kid has an IQ Of 400 and Edogawa’s intelligence has to be somewhere within that range, it’ll only grow as he ages.)

“Are you going to grow wings and fly?” Edogawa asks, his voice carried by a gust of wind. He turns his head and Saguru swears that his glasses have become some sort of tinted green color. “It’s hard to see, don’t you think?”

“Worried, Tantei-kun?” says Kid, his voice light and teasing. “And Tantei-san, you must be getting rusty if a child can beat you—no offense to the little guy.”

“Edogawa-kun may look like a child, but he certainly doesn’t think like one,” replies he, hoping that he doesn’t offend the other detective. “He’s right, you know. Flying in this weather could be deadly.”

Kid laughs, the sound echoing in the night. “I guess I’ll have to be careful then, won’t I?” He slips a hand inside his suit jacket with minute shivers wracking his body. Saguru assumes that he’s placing the jewel inside an inner breast pocket. “Well, gentlemen, I bid you a good night,” says he, turning around.

Edogawa drops to one knee and moves a hand to the side of his right foot, capturing Saguru’s attention as he’s intrigued by such an odd action. Before he can even think to ask or try to capture Kid before he can leave, the child cries out, “Kid, get down!” and pounces on the thief as the other begins to turn his head out of surprise.

Saguru doesn’t even have the chance to blink when he hears a shout as the two fall to the ground. And, for some reason, the foreboding pressure just grows.

“Ow! That was dirty even for you, Tantei-kun!” Kid remarks, picking himself up. The weight on his back that is Edogawa falls to the ground, landing on the snow. “What was that for?”

For a moment, the detective is stunned. 1412 had been taken down by a child in a moment of distraction just like that? If he had known that that could work, he’d have done so long ago. He’ll have to give props to Edogawa when the police finally makes their way up here.

Speaking of, what’s taking them so long anyway?

It takes the both of them a few moments to realize that there is no response coming from the little detective. And that Edogawa is still lying face first in the snow without even a twitch. Saguru moves closer, feeling rather frightened. This isn’t another trick to get Kid, is it?

Saguru sucks in a breath as Kid shakes the boy, trying to coax him out of whatever stupor he’s in. The detective looks at the scene, relating Edogawa to some sort of odd puddle as he’s engulfed by that gigantic coat of his and that floppy-eared hat. After a few more seconds of silence, the thief turns the child over.

Edogawa’s skin is pale and only slightly flushed from being in contact with the snow. His eyes are shut and his face is slack. And he doesn’t appear to be moving.

“He’s breathing, right?” Saguru can’t help but ask, his voice sounding oddly quiet.

“I don’t think so.” Kid’s mask slips once more and his poker face is replaced with something akin to panic.

1412 doesn’t even need to explain because the detective can see the snow coloring and the white fabric of Kid’s gloves becoming stained. Saguru reminds himself not to panic just yet, but the other is already searching around frantically with his eyes.

“His head,” says the other in a mad rush. “He’s been shot through the head.”

Saguru rips his gloves off and reaches for his phone to call for an ambulance. He can see the other trying to unzip the child’s coat—most likely to look for a pulse because it’s blocking all possible points. Just as he finds his device, the rooftop door flings open and someone shouts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... guess who just finished her first week of school? I was so tired on Friday that I fell asleep at 6 p.m. Ha.
> 
> Okay, so, I’ve been trying to write. I swear. It’s just, I’ve only been writing in the morning on the bus or for like an hour or two when I got home because I’m trying to get used to this whole AP thing. It’s only three AP classes and three Honors classes, but I’m still overwhelmed. It’s okay though. :p
> 
> So, I don’t want to share too much about this idea. ;)) I mainly wrote it because I wanted to get this fic to 13k words for the 13th chapter. Hehe.
> 
> In fact, I’m not going to share anything at all. I have a general idea of where this is going, but I also thought most of it up in my sleep deprived and half asleep state—having only gotten 4-5 hours of sleep and being awake at 6:30 a.m.—so a lot of what I’ve thought of is gone. Whoops.
> 
> If you couldn’t tell, I started to give up at the last 800 words. I rewrote the part like 5 times. I also did a decent amount of foreshadowing.
> 
> Anyway, I want to leave this story to your imagination. Please, I would love to see any theories and ideas on what’s happening or what’s going to happen. Maybe someone out there caught onto the gist of this idea. ;))


	14. XIV

When a child in Ekoda goes missing, Conan doesn’t think too much of it at first seeing as he hasn’t become involved in it nor is Ekoda even his territory per se; however, when it comes to light that one of four jizo statues surrounding a shrine just a forest away from the other district had been damaged, many whisper a name that he hasn’t heard since his first childhood: Hachishakusama.

And that’s quite concerning.

She’s a presence considered to be demonic and she’s said to take the form of a woman with an impossible height of eight feet, hence the name. Some say she’s a shriveled hag or a woman with unimaginable beauty. Everyone says she’s eight-feet-tall and makes a deep _po, po, po_ sound. Everyone says she kidnaps children.

Children like that six-year-old boy in Ekoda.

The detective’s been paying much heed to the news, sneaking peeks at papers and watching the morning channels and listening to radios when he’s on the move. Two more children have since gone missing, one boy and one girl, both at the ages of seven and nine in that order. And, again, both from the Ekoda district. Everyone seems to be talking about it, but adults in Beika and districts other than Ekoda have yet to enforce some sort of warning on the children, much to his and Tōichi’s ire.

Despite his abilities, Conan doesn’t take his superstitions to the extreme and he can’t help but worry when a weight settles on his chest.

It’s been a month since the first disappearance and two days since the last one. So far, the children have yet to come forth and, thankfully, bodies have yet to turn up. It’s not a secret that Hachishakusama kidnaps children, but it also isn’t a secret that she’s said to kill.

Of course, it’s all just a legend, but many claim that she’s real and had been sealed away up until one of the jizo statues holding her hostage had broken.

The news reached the kids two weeks ago and they had all but begged the professor to take them to Ekoda so that they may investigate. Along with the man and Haibara, Conan set his foot down, relaying to them exactly why even he hasn’t made a move to solve this case yet.

“Hachishakusama may sound like a simple urban legend, and she may as well be, but we’ve no idea what we’re dealing with,” he had told them with quiet anger in his voice. “We don’t know if these children are dead or alive. I don’t want you guys to even think about pulling any of your reckless stunts lest you also become a part of this mystery.”

(He doesn’t want to deal with a case that may involve a child’s death. He definitely doesn’t want to deal with a case that may involve a child’s death if that child is one of the kids.)

Needless to say, they felt his anger and initially weren’t willing to listen. If not for Haibara pitching in, leveling them all with a cold glare and her sharp words, he’d be afraid that they may still pursue this case without anyone’s supervision. It’s not that he doesn’t think they’re smart, it’s just that they’re _children_.

Even if they are smarter at their age than he had been, they’re also more brash and less knowledgeable than he had been. Tōichi wishes for their safety just as much as he does, and he won’t ever forgive himself if they get caught up in this case. Conan can’t let them get involved in a case that just may prove dangerous...

... which is exactly why he’s going to look into it himself.

(Since his first childhood, the legend of Hachishakusama has always intrigued him, even if he had never been such a firm believer in it. Sure, with his abilities, there’s some part of him that wonders how much truth there is, but he’s logical enough that he won’t believe in something he’s never seen. With the lore making such a comeback, Conan thinks that someone should do something so that this tale will end happily.)

For the next five hours, Conan will find himself conducting his own investigation. He’ll take a train to Ekoda and arrive back in time to meet with the kids at the park. After that, he’ll walk them all home and then join Kogorō and Ran for dinner, which will be eaten at a new Italian restaurant that opened up just two weeks ago.

With his agenda committed to memory, he checks his crossbody one-strap backpack, looking inside to make sure he has everything he may need: a notebook and pen, his bus and train passes, the personal radio he’s nicked from Kogorō, snacks, and the like. In the pockets of his shorts are both of his phones and his bow tie in his left pocket where his Shinichi phone is hiding. He’s wearing an evergreen hoodie with a blue jean jacket overtop as the weather’s been quite chilly lately and his Beika cap is turned backwards on his head.

Nodding to himself, he slings his bag over his shoulders and slides his feet into his trainers, making sure to double knot his shoes and picking up his skateboard, which is propped against the wall. Just as he reaches for the knob, Kogorō calls out, “Oi, Brat, you got another appoi—”

“Tomorrow. I know,” interrupts Conan, hiding his irritation. Ran won’t let him forget. “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

The man grunts, probably returning his attention to his horse races or a broadcast of his favorite idol’s latest concert. “If you aren’t back by six-o’clock sharp, we’re leavin’ without you.”

The detective just rolls his eyes and slips out the door, running down the steps. Checking his watch, he notes that he can ride to the station on his skateboard in ten minutes and take the train and get to Ekoda just before 30 minutes past noon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as some of you may have noticed, this takes place in my [You See, But Do Not Observe](https://archiveofourown.org/series/967344) Universe. Currently, this story isn’t actually going to happen, but I’ve wanted to write something ever since I learned of Hachishakusama months ago.
> 
> For those who don’t read that series: Since his first childhood, Conan’s been able to see ghosts? Spirits? Echoes of life? Whatever you wish to call them. Tōichi’s been a presence in his life since he was nine.
> 
> Anyway, I heard about this legend at some point last year? Two years ago? I’ve no idea. I did a bit of research, but I’m afraid I couldn’t find much so much of what I have and will write is creative liberty.
> 
> Basically, she’s this demonic presence (?) who kidnaps and kills children who see her by mimicking the voice of an adult they trust. Something like that.
> 
> I chose this universe because Conan can already _see_. Despite that, he’s not very superstitious and he’s still quite logical, but he does believe in what he _can_ see. I thought it would be interesting to see him working with something that may not be human.
> 
> (It could all be a trick though, so...)
> 
> Anyway, if I ever write this, it will take place after [TSAWLM](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15646668/chapters/36339684) and the story that follows that one. Minor spoilers are included in the bit of dialogue Kogorō has, but they’re very vague spoilers. :p
> 
> I just imagine this case being something that strikes a chord with him because it involves children and may or may not end up with a child’s life being lost and he doesn’t want to entertain the idea when he has the kids to look after.


	15. XV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of [XII](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388833/chapters/36934392) and I’m posting here instead of as a new series as I’d rather not start a new one at the moment and I’d like to delete this document off of my phone.

10:30 a.m. on the second Sunday of June finds Shinichi with his upper-body draped over his desk, passed out and sleeping away with a pen at hand and papers laying flat underneath his face.

The unmistakeable sound of the doorbell jolts him awake, surprising him into knocking over his pencil holder as he sits up faster than he’d like to after hours of sleeping in such an uncomfortable position. A sound of pain escapes him as he notices the stiffness in his joints and the soreness of his back from his bad posture. Slowly, he rises, choosing to clean up after he unlocks the gate for whomever it is that has decided to bother him.

Shinichi trudges down the hallway, feeling a headache brewing like some sort of tropic storm. He sticks close the wall, dragging a hand along the surface to keep himself steady while his legs feel too weak to hold him up properly. The sooner he answers the door, the sooner he can go back to working on the reams of school work he needs to make up before taking his exams.

He stumbles down the steps, reminding himself of how tired he is. 

Between cases, dodging interviews, and cramming two years of school into a handful of months, Shinichi doesn’t have much time to sleep as much as he’d like to. Haibara comes by daily, dragging him over to eat or sometimes just for his weekly check-up to monitor the status of the antidote she had managed to create just months earlier; it had taken her three months using the data he recovered and the data she gathered from her temporary antidotes.

(Even now she’s still worried that this cure isn’t as permanent as the two of them had hoped.)

Stretching his arms behind his head, he soon reaches the door and proceeds to press the button for the intercom system as it’s better safe than sorry.

“Who is it?” he asks, half-expecting Ran to answer the only other person who would be here at this hour would be Haibara, and like the little devil she is, she always manages to find a way inside and doesn’t see a need to bother with the doorbell.

“ _Good morning! My name is Kuroba Kaito and Mouri-chan sent me here to deliver you this bento in her stead,_ ” answers a jovial voice, startling Shinichi for the second time in less than ten minutes. “ _May I come in, Kudō-kun? She specifically requested that I make sure you eat it. Mouri-chan said something about you making up school work?_ ”

“U-uh,” he oh-so-eloquently says, suddenly feel more awake. He looks to the small screen, which shows him the picture of a messy-haired teen who couldn’t be more than a year older than him at most. Shinichi frowns, wondering when Ran had met this guy, but he doesn’t comment about that. “The gate’s open. Just... I’ll get the door for you?”

There’s a very chirpy response that Shinichi ignores in favor of unlocking the door. When he opens it to welcome his surprise guest, he catches the other skipping down the small path. His eyes narrow, squinting at the brightness of the world outside, but otherwise it’s because he’s a little apprehensive about inviting this stranger in. Still, he supposes if Ran knows him and trusts him to do this, then this Kuroba Kaito probably doesn’t want to kill him or anything of the sort.

Probably. Hopefully. Yeah.

The other walks by him, kicking off his sneakers and slipping on the guest slippers Shinichi always has out. The air around him shifts and Shinichi closes the door almost tentatively, wondering why the atmosphere around the other feels like a farrago of familiar and mysterious. Before he can say anything, Kuroba turns to him, grinning with a 1000 watt smile and bowing politely at a 15° angle.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” says Kuroba, standing straight. He holds out what must be a bento box wrapped in a white handkerchief. “Mouri-chan sends her condolences for not being able to meet you, but she wanted to make sure that you had a hearty meal.”

“Er, thank you, Kuroba-kun.” He purses his lips, taking the bento from the other. “You don’t have to stay. My, ah, neighbor checks in on me frequently and I fear she’ll maim me herself if I don’t eat.”

“Oh? The little ojōsama?” asks Kuroba, raising his brows. He slides his hands in the pockets of his blue puffer vest, which is unzipped and layered over a short sleeve t-shirt. “I met her just a few minutes ago. She kept asking me what I was doing. A little young to act like a nagging old woman, isn’t she? Less than half your age, no doubt?”

Shinichi raises his brows, but otherwise doesn’t say anything in reply to that. Maybe she’s not a quote-unquote bagging old woman, but she’s still one or two years their senior. And she most definitely won’t like hearing anyone refer to her as such.

“Kuroba-ku—”

“Just Kaito is fine,” sings the other.

“As I was saying, _Kuroba-kun_ , you can leave,” says Shinichi, not wanting to voice the notion that he would actually prefer that this stranger leave. “I can take care of myself.” He shuffles his feet, feeling a little timid for some forsaken reason. “I’m not very comfortable eating with strangers.”

Kuroba purses his lips and undos the expression so fast that Shinichi almost misses it. “Well,” begins the other, “I was given a task by your dear Mouri-chan. I’m sure she’d be very disappointed if I could only tell her that I hope you’ve finished off the food she worked so hard to make.”

Ack. Shinichi doesn’t like the way Kuroba is guilt-tripping him because _it’s working_. He bites his lip as he glances down at the bento in his hands.

“Fine,” he relents. “You can stay.”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Kuroba exclaims, grinning at him and _is he ever not grinning?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Yeah. I wrote this not long after posting [XII](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388833/chapters/36934392), but I didn’t get around to finishing it until now.
> 
> My idea with this is that Kaito starts to visit Shinichi more using excuses like the one he had used in this chapter. At some point, it stops being for Ran’s sake and more for curiosity’s sake because _why is he so much like Tantei-kun?_
> 
> Anyway, I probably won’t be picking this up anytime soon. As always, anyone is free to take any ideas I’ve written so long as you inform me because I would love to read someone’s take! :) I’m always looking for new stories to read. :p


	16. XVI

When the curtain falls, Shinichi is still reeling and the applause is still thundering as it reaches him through the stiff fabric.

He doesn’t realize that he’s shaking until Ran runs up from stage left and throws her arms around him, nearly sending the two of them onto the ground as she congratulates him and talks a mile a minute about how amazed she had been by his performance.

In her arms, he’s breathless and his body is still wracked with tremors that just won’t stop. Somehow, he manages to croak out a, “Th-thanks,” as he tries to discern whether the last two hours actually happened. He can’t remember what’s happened, but at the same time everything is crystal clear.

For some reason, he feels as though he’s floating on air. There’s a feeling of pride and satisfaction bubbling within, but it’s being overtaken by a feeling akin to pure and utter nervousness; it seems that tonight’s events are just now setting in.

Now he can’t feel his legs.

And he _loves it._ Maybe the lack of feeling is a little scary, but being on stage—!

Not even a minute later, he notices his parents arriving. Yukiko is running towards him with her arms outstretched and a camcorder at hand while wearing a smile so wide it must hurt. Yūsaku, on the other hand, is strolling over with both hands in either pocket and looking as aloof as ever while he hides his own smile behind that passive face.

“That’s my little Ikkyu-san!” his mother coos, engulfing him in a massive hug as Ran slips away to find her own parents in the auditorium. “Ahh, Yū-chan and I were so impressed!” She pulls away, holding him by the shoulders as though she’s trying to help him stand straight; he’s very thankful for that. “We’re so proud of you, Shin-chan.”

“That was indeed a masterful performance, Shinichi,” says the author, giving him a small nod along with a small smile. “You take after your mother, I see. Many of the other parents were astounded by how well you did.”

“Really?” Shinichi asks, looking up at the both of them with wide eyes, not even thinking to duck out from his mother’s grip. He flushes, turning his head to the side as he drops his gaze to the floor. Impressed? By him? “I mean, I guess I wasn’t half bad.”

Yukiko laughs, and someone’s parent passes by and sings their praises for him, which makes his blush deepens. The retired actress can’t hide the swelling pride from translating onto her face. Shinichi supposes that she must be so relieved that all their hard work had paid off in the end despite how resistant he had been in the beginning.

“You were amazing! I got it all on film,” she says, waving her camcorder as she winks at him. “Oh! I can’t wait to show this to all my friends!”

And that, Shinichi would later learn, is the start of a new career.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh. I finally wrote something for this idea! Ever since the episode 896(?) came out, I’ve been wanting to write something for it. :p
> 
> So, in this AU...
> 
> We can’t deny that Shinichi is a cocky lil schnitzel, right? Although being a detective is his greatest passion, he also finds a new one with acting. In addition to mysteries, soccer, and likely the violin, Shinichi decides to pursue a hobby in acting.
> 
> I see this AU going two ways.
> 
> 1: At some point, the actor dream becomes just that; however, he’s immensely greatful for the experience as it later becomes useful when he’s Conan. He’d probably be found out by less people.
> 
> 2: Instead of the entire series, Shinichi becomes an actor. I like to think of this as something a little more lighthearted. I see him as the type of actor who only shows up when it counts as Haibara had said.
> 
> Shrugs. Yeah. I just love this idea of an Actor!Shinichi. This is more self-indulgent than anything, really.


	17. XVII

Kaito meets his best friend for many years to come when he sees a girl his age standing by herself.

It’s at this moment that he falls in love before he knows what the phrase even means. Inside his chest, his heart trills with excitement and his head spins as he wonders what his first words to her shall be. Fueled with excitement, Kaito runs over, stopping beside her and performing a trick he’s seen his father do only thousands of times.

And it’s the first trick he’s done for some who isn’t his parents.

The look of surprise and joy on her face as he says, “I’m Kuroba Kaito. Nice to meet you!” makes him all warm and giddy inside until she looks him in the eye with a smile. He realizes that his soulmark has yet to stop. He hides his disappointment as she takes the flower and introduces herself.

On this day, Kaito learns that his soulmate is not Nakamori Aoko.

He hums, wondering whether he should return to his father. On one hand, he promised he wouldn’t be long. On the other hand, the man is meeting with one of his students and the boy had tried opting out because there was nothing he’d like to do more than sit in his room and practice card tricks all day. Unfortunately for him, his mother wanted some alone time to enjoy the peace and quiet she’s lost since her motherhood adventure began.

“Do you want me to wait with you?” Kaito inquires because his parents would have a conniption if they learned that he had abandoned a girl no older than he and left her alone like she had been. “I got nothing better to do.”

“Well... I guess I don’t wanna be alone,” she replies, eyeing the street with worry. She looks upset. He wonders how long she’s been waiting out here. “Tōsan said he was gonna be here thirty minutes ago.”

“Then he can’t be far away!” The boy grins, trying to find a way to cheer her up. He snaps his fingers and adds, “He’s gotta be close! For now, do you wanna see a magic trick?”

As if all her worries had disappeared, she nods excitedly as she claps her hands. There’s this huge smile on her face that startles him because the sight of it is just so pretty. Just as he’s trying to pull out the deck of cards like his father had showed him, his fingers slip and the cards spill out onto the ground. Kaito gasps and drops to his knees, hurrying to pick them up before they get scattered and lost.

From above, the bell-like sounds of laughter rain down on him and he looks up to see Miss. Nakamori Aoko giggling. The sound is sweet to the ears and Kaito can’t help but feel a little disappointed when he remembers that they aren’t soulmates. He hopes that his own soulmate has a laugh as nice as that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh?? What’s that?? Somebody asked for a [Measured In Moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780297) version of Kaito’s side??
> 
> It’s in the works. :)
> 
> If you’ve read the MIM, feel free to give me some suggestions for this version. Since we’ll be seeing Kaito’s side, is there anything I should add? I’m hoping for this one to be just as long as MIM.
> 
> I think this one will be a bit sillier given what Kaito will go through when he’s under the impression that Conan is an elementary school child. Oof.
> 
> Edit: I’m taking title suggestions for this one. :p


	18. XVIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Disclaimer: The Collector is an idea I took from [The Collector](https://m.fanfiction.net/s/11713088/1/The-Collector) by Queen of Crystallopia on FFN! It’s a _Young Justice_ fic I read about two years ago. :p I haven’t read it in a hot minute, but I was scrolling through my favorited stories on the FFN app and reread the summary.
> 
> I’ve been wanting to write this fic for about a year or two now, but I could never figure out the best way to start it, so I scrapped all my drafts and just forgot about the idea until a few days ago. :)
> 
> So, yes, I don’t totally own this idea and I was trying to come up with a name better than The Collector, but I gave up. Whoops. If you’re into YJ or like reading anything even remotely interesting, go check it out!

“The Sleeping Kogorō’s Bag Of Wisdom.”  
  
Conan merely grins in reply, hiding behind a childish façade as he tries to figure out what he’s doing, sitting in Managing Officer Kuroda’s office after school.  
  
Just this afternoon, during a lesson in the times-two table, he had been blissfully unaware of the goings-on until Kobayashi had gotten a phone call in the middle of class. Assuming that it had been a call for an emergency staff meeting or something similar, he had taken to staring out the window until Haibara nudged him, hissing under her breath that their teacher wanted to speak with him.  
  
It was a call from Shiratori, asking her to tell Conan in private that someone would be picking him up from school when it let out. She pulled him outside into the hall to tell him this, whispering it should the door not be enough to hide the conversation from curious ears. She looked upset when she told him this, but she ushered him back into class before he could ask.  
  
And his chauffeur ended up being Sato, who had been accompanied by Takagi.  
  
Sitting in her red Mazda RX-7 is an experience he enjoys as it’s a rather nice sports car, but in the time it took to arrive at the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Headquarters, he thought there was a rather tense atmosphere. If it weren’t for the way Sato had gripped her steering wheel hard enough to turn her knuckles white or for the way Takagi kept glancing at him through the rearview mirror and asking how his day was as if his opinion changed every three minutes, Conan would have let it be.  
  
Takagi made an effort to remedy it when Sato stopped at a gas station to fill up her tank. He bought an iced coffee that he gave to Conan along with an apology for taking up his time after school.  
  
Conan simply told him that he didn’t mind and asked if someone could explain why he was in the car with them.  
  
Neither Sato nor Takagi gave him an answer.  
  
Which brings him to the present, where he’s sitting in a chair and the only thing between him and the newly-promoted man is a rather lovely oak desk. Conan drums his fingers against the sides of his iced coffee, pointedly ignoring Kuroda’s heavy gaze under the guise of staring at the room with a faux expression of amazement.  
  
He jumps when the door opens, having been too engrossed in ignoring the bearded man before him. Conan hears Takagi calling out to Kuroda, announcing that Kogorō and Ran have finally arrived. Curiosity and interest piqued, he turns around in his seat, being careful so as to not spill his drink, which is becoming lukewarm much to his distaste.  
  
The first thing he notices is the troubled look on Ran’s face and Kogorō’s serious expression. In the back of his mind, he thinks about how that expression occurs just as often as a leap year and how it’s seldom without reason. And, surprisingly enough, Megure has accompanied the three of them.  
  
Conan supposes that now is the best time to ask the questions that have been on the tip of his tongue for the past few minutes, but Kuroda speaks first as soon as the door is closed behind the new arrivals.  
  
“I assume Takagi has explained the situation to you two as I had instructed,” he says. Both Mouris nod and Conan wishes to himself that he weren’t out of the loop. “Since guardianship over this boy has been transferred to you for as long as he is under your care, it’s been decided that we’d ask for your permission to have him assist us.”  
  
Curiouser and curiouser, Conan thinks.  
  
“Bōzu, there are cases that even we, the police, can’t solve,” Kuroda confesses, his voice slicing through the air and holding no ounce of shame. “I brought you here because I’d like to ask a favor. You may not like it, but I’m sure that won’t be the case.”  
  
It’s Megure who speaks next. With a hand grasping the brim of his hat and a grim frown, he asks, “Conan-kun, have you heard of The Collector?”  
  
In his mind, the name seems familiar, ringing a bell whose note he cannot name. Conan takes a long sip of his coffee, trying his best to not gag when he tastes the now-room-temperature liquid. He stops sipping before it becomes obvious that there is almost no liquid left inside.  
  
“A serial kidnapper, right?” he says after another moment of thought. Conan can just barely recall seeing it on the evening news when Kogorō had fallen asleep after an hour of watching Okino Yōko’s latest TV special a few nights ago. “The Collector has kidnapped some... kids and...”  
  
Oh.  
  
Kuroda smiles, lips pulling up minutely at the corners; it’s a scary look on his face. For obvious reasons though, Conan doesn’t comment on it.  
  
“I’m sure you already know what I want to ask you,” the managing officer guesses, his lips pulling back down into a thin line.  
  
“But Kuroda Kanrikan,” Kogorō chokes out, his voice all but dripping in disbelief. “How do you know this guy will go after the brat?”  
  
For such a terrible gumshoe, Kogorō is smart enough to ask the same question that had popped into his own mind. Conan hadn’t gotten any intel on the victims of this kidnapper. What’s the connection? What sets him apart from any other kid aside from him not actually being a kid?  
  
Apparently the question is Takagi’s cue. Megure elbows him, throwing his a small glare and coughing into his fist. The police sergeant stutters out a, “H-hai!” as he pulls out his notebook from his inner breast pocket. Turning it sideways, he reads aloud, “Tomika Yoshitoshi, 8, junior champion chess player in Japan; Tansho Keiko, 7, ballet dancer, won a few competitions in Japan and overseas in America; Tsumura Arata, 8, singer, appeared on a couple talent shows in and out of Japan and placing 2nd or 1st in four of them...”  
  
Takagi squints, flipping two more pages before slipping the little book back into his pocket. “There’s more, but I think you see a connection.”  
  
Talent. Skill. Prodigiousness.  
  
Everything that many think of when they think of Edogawa Conan and even back when he was Kudō Shinichi. Not to toot his own horn or anything, but it’s not hard to see why Kuroda would think him capable of playing a role in capturing a serial kidnapper.  
  
“If the perp’s target age range were older, we would’ve tried to pass one of our younger recruits off as bait, but we don’t have anyone short enough to pretend to be a kid,” Megure laments, sounding frustrated. He sighs. “I hate to even consider it, but Conan-kun’s been in enough of these situations and he’s our best bet at capturing the guy without many casualties.”  
  
Ran’s brows furrow and her lips curve into a frown. When she opens her mouth, eyes narrowed and looking between him and everyone else in the room, Kuroda adds, “And we’ll have plenty of officers ready to move if The Collector comes after him. I’ll personally see to it that enough resources are in place to keep him safe.” He leans forward in his seat just enough to make Conan scoot back in his own seat. “I’m sure you want to see an end to the kidnappings, don’t you?”  
  
“Besides, Ran-san, Conan-kun may already be on the target list,” Takagi pipes up as if it’s the right thing to say. To be frank, it isn’t. Saying that will only make Ran fret even more. “He’s on the news and in the papers just as much as the other kids who’ve been taken by The Collector.”  
  
Conan feels like he should protest for Ran’s sake, but he doesn’t dare refute those words. Even though he tries his best to lay low lest the Black Organization somehow stumble upon pictures of him and recognize him, he can never stop his face or name from being plastered onto headlines.  
  
“I’ll do it!” he proclaims, not shying away from the attention his shout gives him. Ran looks aghast. “What do I have to do?”  
  
“Perhaps we could convince Suzuki-san to hold an exhibit with a challenge for Kaitō Kid,” Kuroda suggests, hands folded in front of his lips. “It’ll give us time to prepare. The crowd will give us the cover we need without arousing suspicion.”  
  
“Oi oi.” Kogorō’s fists are shaking by his side as he asks, “Don’t we get a say in this? We’re the ones the brat’s living with until his parents get back from wherever the hell they are!”  
  
Ran nods vigorously, stomping her right foot. “I don’t like this idea,” she states as if it weren’t already obvious. “It’s dangerous! Conan-kun, you could get hurt!”  
  
Conan likes to think that his kicked puppy expression is convincing enough. “But, Ran-nēchan! I want to help!” He knows he’s got her in the palm of his hand when her anger falters, softening her features as she examines him carefully. “Please?”  
  
“Conan-kun,” she stresses, trying to win a losing battle. He knows he’s won her over when he tells her that he just wants to make a difference. “You’d still get yourself into trouble with or without permission, wouldn’t you? You’re always running off and doing your own thing.”  
  
Even though he doesn’t reply, he fully agrees. Who would he be if he didn’t try to play hero? Conan only breaks out into a grin when Ran relents, which seems to be enough for Kogorō to agree to this stupid idea.  
  
As soon as everyone is on board with the idea of using Conan as bait for a dangerous opponent, Megure clears his throat.  
  
“Now, Conan-kun, what we’re asking of you is dangerous,” he says. “It’s the most reckless gamble I’ve made in my career. You can’t tell anyone. As far as your friends are concerned, as far as the press is concerned, you were not asked to do this. If The Collector does come after you, you were not bait.” Megure looks more serious than Conan ever thought possible. “Even though you’ve consented to the idea and offered no objections, it won’t look good for us—involving a minor and essentially exploiting you.”  
  
The detective almost scoffs. He didn’t need to be told to know that this proposal is to be kept between him and everyone currently present—possibly even Sato and Shiratori know about this, so he’s likely at liberty to discuss this with them. Regardless, if word got out that the TMPD purposefully put (who they believe is) a child in a dangerous situation, regardless of his capabilities and the officers who will be on-site, there will be much controversy that could lead to a great deal of trouble for them.  
  
“I know!” he says, sounding almost offended. “I won’t tell anyone! I think it’s Kogorō-ojīsan you should be worrying about.”  
  
“— _Why you little brat!_ —”  
  
“I can probably ask Sonoko if Jirokichi-ojīsan is going to be challenging Kaitō Kid soon,” Ran says, ignoring the way her father’s hands are twitching as if he’d like to strangle Conan right then and there. “Though, would a kidnapper risk taking Conan-kun at a heist?”  
  
Takagi scratches the back of his head. “I never thought about that... Nakamori-keibu would be there along with the Taskforce.”  
  
“But if Collector-san tries to kidnap me while everyone is chasing after Kid, he won’t have much trouble, nē?” He grins. “Everyone will be busy! No one would notice and Collector-san could take me. Isn’t that right, Kogorō-ojīsan?”  
  
“Ri-right.” Kogorō frowns. “Oi. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”  
  
Conan shakes his head. Haibara would bring him back to life just to kill him herself. There are too many reasons for him to fight for his life and he’ll be damned if he dies now.  
  
“So... when do we get started?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... basically, the TMPD are desperate enough to use who they believe is an actual child to catch a kidnapper. It probably helps that Kuroda has complete faith in him and isn’t opposed to the idea.
> 
> I wrote this last night because I was quite upset and needed some sort of distraction! If there are any typos, I blame the fact that I was struggling to keep my eyes open. :p I think I fixed most of my mistakes!!
> 
> Where is this story going? I’ve no idea. Perhaps Conan lets himself get kidnapped. Who knows.
> 
> So... yeah. No idea about this. Just wanted to write it and get it out of my system. :p


	19. XIX

If you ask Kaito, his list of the most risky and reckless things he’s ever done can be summed up in two words: Kaitō Kid.  
   
When you moonlight as an internationally-wanted thief, you may want to be prepared for the worst. And Kaito may be going a little overboard with Escape Plans A through F. In his defense, he likes to have contingency plans because he doesn’t want to risk his freedom, thank you very much, but there’s only so many plausible ways that a heist can go wrong.  
   
(Besides, it can’t hurt to be a little more cautious with Snake running around and scary little detectives afoot.)  
   
On that note, Kaito spends a few sleepless nights scribbling away on some blueprints of a building’s layout and noting escape routes and guard posts and deciding which gadgets to use and where. Like tonight. Tonight, he’s rendezvousing with the blueprints of an arts center in the Aichi Prefecture where a diamond will be worn by one of the performers in the concert hall come Tuesday night.  
   
Lost in thought, Kaito almost doesn’t notice the tingling on the back of his right hand that carries with it an overwhelming sense of fear; it snaps him out of his concentration once he recognizes that the fear isn’t his own.  
   
He’s almost afraid to turn his hand over, but his worry outweighs his own fear.  
   
_Don’t let them find me._  
   
Please let them be okay, Kaito can’t help but think. He doesn’t know what those words mean and he’d love to believe that it’s just an intense game of hide-and-seek, but he can’t fathom how someone could be that scared of being found. Even as he returns to jotting down a few notes, his mind wanders to those words.  
   
Nervous thoughts fly through his head and the fingers on his left hand drum against the surface of his desk as he tries to convince himself that his soulmate is just a very serious and very committed player when it comes to hide-and-seek.  
   
(Somehow, he knows it isn’t true—especially given the other things that have appeared on his hand ever since that one night that took place a few months ago.)  
   
“The bastard’s currently not in Japan, so I don’t need to worry about him,” Kaito murmurs, referring to the half-Brit detective. Still, he makes at least three plans in case Hakuba decides to show up unannounced for the element of surprise; it sounds like something he’d do to get Kaito to slip up. Anything else he needs to consider? “The place is a little out of Tantei-kun’s jurisdiction—‘specially since Old Man Jirokichi isn’t involved.”  
   
His hands still as he stares at the paper in front of his. His pen is just centimeters away from the surface. Somehow, his hand isn’t shaking—probably just years of training because shaking hands ruin some of his tricks that involve sleight-of-hand.  
   
Tantei-kun...  
   
“I haven’t seen him in a while,” Kaito notes to no one in particular, moving to place his chin in the palm of his left hand. He frowns. “Even those two heists where I was challenged by Jirokichi. I wonder how he’s doing.”  
   
Kaito has an idea of how much trouble the little boy gets himself into. He also knows that Tantei-kun is a fierce opponent. The detective is the type to retaliate when threatened and the one who carries with him a calm glare that somehow also manages to dance with excited frustration in the face of Kid’s brilliant but irksome antics. Kaito admires the boy for his intelligence and unique approach to 1412.  
   
Wondering just how skillful Tantei-kun will be when he’s older, Kaito shudders, thinking about how powerful his kicks will be with and without power-enhancing shoes. Already, the little detective is only ever one step behind him and sometimes a couple steps before him with a soccer ball at the ready. If he were older, that sharp mind would only grow and keeping up with Kid would be just as easily done as it is said.  
   
With a shake of his head, Kaito returns to work once more.  
   
(At this vent, there should be one or two officers posted. If he uses a canister of sleeping gas, they’ll be out like a light in less than a second. And if he can’t get to the roof using the stairs, he can pull himself up through the window at the end of the hall because then all he needs to do is run to the side for his hang glider to catch the eastern-blowing winds.)  
   
It takes him over an hour to notice that the fear has melted away into something anxious yet calm. Stealing a glance at the back of his hand, he reads a single word that prompts a sigh of relief to escape his lips.  
   
_Safe._  
   
As he sighs, it evolves into a yawn that has him rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms. Doing his best to blink away the sleepiness, he decides that, with any luck, he’ll be able to ward off sleep for at least another hour. He doesn’t understand why this wave of exhaustion is weighing down on him—perhaps this is his soulmate’s exhaustion and not his own?  
   
Either way, another hour of meticulous planning turns into another hour of sitting in his chair, letting the warmth of the artificial lights wash over him as he stares at the back of his hand.  
   
Safe from who?  
   
Sometimes, Kaito really worries about his soulmate. To his knowledge, the two of them have never once met before, but he can’t help his fear when he sees words that imply dangerous situations accompanied with feelings that carry over to him through those words.  
   
But he also wonders what his soulmate sees. Kaito wants to know if the person on the other end sees his thoughts when he’s Kid, wants to know if this person has pieced it together and learned that their soulmate is the 1412.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a continuation of [VI](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15388833/chapters/36090981)!
> 
> If you didn’t read that or have forgotten the premise: This is a Soulmate AU in which your soulmate’s greatest thoughts/goals appear on the back of your hand.
> 
> If you didn’t catch onto it, I wrote this as if it were taking place during the episode where Conan hid in a locker while Gin and Vodka were there and began to open them one-by-one after Conan tried to trick them. :)
> 
> So, I think this is how I want this AU to go:
> 
> Soulmates get to see their partner’s thoughts/dreams/whatever when they turn 13.
> 
> Not much is known about the whole soulmate connection thing, but Shinichi learns one thing when he becomes Conan: your connection to your soulmate is broken unless you’re physically 13 or older, which he isn’t at the moment.
> 
> How does that work? I don’t know. Neither does he. For the sake of angst or whatever, don’t question it. Thanks.
> 
> Since he isn’t dead, the soulmate connection remains for Kaito, who still sees Shinichi’s/Conan’s thoughts.
> 
> Conan assumes that his soulmate may think he’s dead because he believes the soulmate connection was severed on both ends. Kaito worries because his soulmate doesn’t respond to the worried thoughts Kaito tries to send.
> 
> And since Conan can’t see his soulmate’s thoughts, he doesn’t know his soulmate is Kid. Though, we’ll learn at some point that Shinichi had noticed some odd thoughts coming from his soulmate when Kaito became Kid for the first time.
> 
> So, basically slowburn irony where Kid and Conan meet multiple times and don’t realize that they’re soulmates. :)
> 
> I probably have more to say, but I don’t remember what. Whoops.


	20. XX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Just wanted to make a disclaimer:
> 
> I do not own the idea!!! I was inspired by my favorite WEBTOON, [_A Good Day to be a Dog_](https://www.webtoons.com/en/drama/a-good-day-tobe-a-dog/list?title_no=1390)! I definitely recommend it as the art style is so lovely and nice on the eyes and the story!! Sksksksksks. I love it!!! The plot is amazing! I literally screech whenever there’s a new update. ^ ^ Lee Hey, the creator if I’m correct, is a total gem for making the story! I’m very grateful that it’s being translated into English.
> 
> Read the end notes for more!
> 
> So... yeah. Just wanted to clarify that this isn’t my idea! I was just so inspired. :)

“Lemme get this straight: when ya got drunk as hell, ya kissed Kuroba so now ya turn into a kid everyday ‘cause of some curse?”  
  
Shinichi pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. There’s a bothersome pounding in his head that he does his best to ignore as he shuts his eyes. He wonders what possessed him to tell someone with a mouth as loud as Hattori about his current predicament so early in the morning. Then he remembers that the Osakan has stayed the night in one of the guest bedrooms, so him finding had been inevitable.  
  
“A little louder, why don’t you?” he snarks. Shinichi takes two pills and throws them into his mouth, chasing the medication down with water. “It’s... it’s a long story.”  
  
Heiji laughs too loud and it’s terribly hard on the ears. If he weren’t dealing with a hangover, Shinichi would not hesitate to yell at him. He seriously considers never touching a drop of alcohol again. With his history concerning alcoholic beverages, one would think he’d avoid them at all costs; however, Shinichi refused to let a run-in with the Organization get in the way of him drinking every now and then once he could legally drink.  
  
Though, now he thinks alcohol has seriously ruined his life.  
  
“No shit,” says Heiji, still not being mindful of his friend’s hungover state. Shinichi glares at him. “I thought ya didn’t believe in curses.”  
  
“It’s... complicated. Kāsan told me that everyone in her family had been cursed to turn into a child after sharing a kiss with someone after they’ve turned eighteen. It doesn’t matter if it’s your first kiss or not, but the only way to break the curse is by kissing the same person.” Shinichi huffs, bringing his gaze down to his small hands. “After that, you stop turning into a child and it won’t ever happen again unless you kiss a different person.”  
  
“Okay,” says Heiji. Shinichi looks up at him and notices that he’s deep in thought. “So, ya just gotta kiss Kuroba again. Problem solved. Why don’t ya just text him so ya can meet with him tonight. Ya should be back to an adult by then, right?”  
  
Oh, if only it were that simple!  
  
“Here’s the thing.” Shinichi sighs yet again. “If I want to break this, I have to kiss him while I’m...” He flushes, clearing his throat. “I have to be... like this.”  
  
Heiji lets out a low whistle. “Guess ya have to explain the situation then.”  
  
“I’d rather not,” he’s quick to say. At Heiji’s puzzled look, he adds, “I don’t know how he’ll take it. He probably doesn’t even remember us—” he grimaces “—kissing. “  
  
“Okay, but see, the thing is, Kudō,” Heiji says, sounding condescending and as though he’s trying to explain something to a first grader, “if ya don’t explain, ya probably won’t get the smooch you need to get back to normal. I don’t know Kuroba that well, but I don’t think he’s a pedophile.”  
  
Shinichi is appalled. He hopes not!  
  
“I’m only telling you because you weren’t too bad at keeping the Conan-thing a secret,” Shinichi admits. He rolls his eyes. “Even if you did call me by my real name every time in front of Ran.” The amusement melts away as he runs a hand through his hair. “Not even Ran knows about this.”  
  
“So, ya telling him or not?”  
  
Should Shinichi tell Kuroba about the situation so that everything can go back to normal? Yes. Would Shinichi tell Kuroba about the situation so that everything can go back to normal? No. Maybe. He should.  
  
“I... don’t know,” he confesses, voice dropping as he scratches his cheek. “Honestly, I don’t think I would have told you if you hadn’t stayed the night.” Shinichi frowns. “Not that I don’t trust you or anything. I just... it’s weird, isn’t it? I mean, people shouldn’t turn into kids when they kiss someone.”  
  
Heiji shrugs. “I don’t see the big deal. Kuroba seems like he’d probably take it well. I mean, I’d probably look at ya weirdly, but if I saw ya actually turn into a kid, I’d believe ya.” He furrows his brows. “Speakin’ of turnin’ into a kid, whatcha gonna do during the day? Ya can’t hide inside forever. Ya have a job to do.”  
  
Shinichi slides off his chair, taking a few steps forward as he works to balance himself. Peering over his shoulder and back at Heiji, he says, “I guess Conan has to make a comeback.”  
  
“Ya realize that ya have to explain why Conan is back when Conan should be in America, right?” Heiji points out. “Some of us also know that ya were Conan, so what’ll ya tell them?”  
  
Waving him off, Shinichi simply tells him, “Make me a coffee while I change,” as he trudges up to his room.  
  
Unless the boxes have been moved, all of his clothes from the time he spent as Conan are packed away in his closet. The gadgets that he no longer have uses for have been locked up in a box on the top shelf, which he’ll have to ask Heiji for help to reach later. Better safe than sorry in a body this small.  
  
As he passes by a mirror, he takes a moment to really look at himself.  
  
He doesn’t seem to be that much taller than he had been as Conan. In fact, Ayumi should be taller than him. Shinichi purses his lips, both amused and annoyed that the pyjama shirt he had put on practically engulfs him in fabric. Turning away, he continues onward towards his room.  
  
Thankfully, it doesn’t appear like the boxes have been moved, so he slides on towards him and picks out the classic Conan™ outfit and grabs the special shoes from the back of the closet. He doesn’t put anything on as he plans on showering.  
  
But first, he shoots Heiji a text, asking for his assistance to get his gadgets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, in the WEBTOON that inspired this, when the person kisses someone after becoming an adult, they turn into a dog during the night and the only way to stop the transformation is by kissing that same person while being a dog!
> 
> I’d say more, but I’d hate to spoil the plot for anyone who wants to check it out! Speaking of, please do check it out! The creator works very hard and the story deserves so much love. ^ ^
> 
> So, in my story? Basically, Yukiko’s family had been cursed. How so? Idk. For plot purposes, we shall ignore that little tidbit. :)
> 
> How did I change the idea? Well, for one, Shinichi turns into a kid instead of a dog. And he turns into a kid during the day instead of the night! And he and the gang aren’t teachers like in the WEBTOON.
> 
> I have two ideas for this fic:
> 
> 1\. Shinichi meets Kaito in college, post-Conan but not post-Kid. Whether Shinichi knows about Kaito being Kid? I’ve yet to decide. Anyway, after a night of drinking with Hattori, Kaito, Hakuba, and the girls, Shinichi gets terribly drunk and ends up kissing Kaito.
> 
> The story proceeds as you see it here. Shinichi ends up telling Hattori. As for the others? We’ll see.
> 
> Would I continue this version? Idk. It’ll be a bit... difficult. Lots of holes to fix.
> 
> OR
> 
> 2\. Shinichi meets Kaito in college. The catch? Conan never happened, but Kid did. After a night of drinking with Kaito, Hattori, and Hakuba, Shinichi gets drunk and ends up kissing Kaito. The other catch? Shinichi is already dating Ran—she obviously knows about the curse.
> 
> Thus, when Ran finds out he’s turning into a kid again, there’s a bit of... tension. I mean, even if he didn’t mean to, he still kissed someone else. Big oof there. So, they take a bit of a break while Shinichi tries to fix this, but it’s kind of hard when Kaito doesn’t remember kissing him and he doesn’t feel comfortable explaining the situation.
> 
> Anywho...
> 
> Regardless, both fics have KaiShin moments—well, more like KidShin since Shinichi is only ever around at night.
> 
> So yeah. That’s all. Please show your support for Lee Hey and [_A Good Day to be a Dog_](https://www.webtoons.com/en/drama/a-good-day-tobe-a-dog/list?title_no=1390)!


	21. XXI

Shit.  
  
_Shit_.  
  
How could it all go wrong so fast, so soon? Saguru can’t seem to control the flow of English curses from escaping his lips and spilling out into the freezing air. He hears Kid doing the same—is that… _French_? Shaking his head, he fumbles with his phone, letting out quivering breaths as he hurries to unlock his phone.  
  
His hands are freezing. Is it really supposed to be this cold? Saguru feels the urge to pull his anorak tighter around his body. His fingers are stiffening up in the cold and his teeth are chattering more than he’d like to admit! The only thing stopping him from rubbing his hands together is the device in his hands, which he absolutely cannot set down for even a second. Edogawa’s life is depending on him!  
  
“Does Edogawa-kun have a pulse?” he asks with a growl in his voice as his shivering hands screw up the passcode. Saguru is quick to try again. There’s no reply. “ _Kid, is Edogawa-kun still alive_?”  
  
“I-I don’t know,” Kid says, his voice sounding strangled and terrified. Saguru can only imagine just how worried he is about the little boy. Edogawa has always seemed so indestructible. And for him to be taken down by a bullet presumably meant for Kid… “Tantei-san, _hurry up_. _Please_.”  
  
Saguru doesn’t know how to respond without a bite in his voice. Of course he’s hurrying already! He can’t let Edogawa die—no, he’s far too young and has so much to live for. There’s no way neither he nor Kid will be able to forgive themselves if Edogawa dies right here. And speaking of, why isn’t the shooter trying again? Was the target Edogawa or was it Kid? Are they still in danger of being shot at?  
  
Just as he gets his phone unlocked and the phone app open, the rooftop door swings open. Someone shouts—is that English? The accent implies an American…  
  
“Who are you?” Kid barks. Saguru looks at him in time to see a stained white glove reaching into an inner-pocket. As he pulls out his card gun, Saguru turns away to look at the newcomer.  
  
Foreign in appearance. Short blonde hair, thin-framed glasses over blue eyes, and a lime green winter coat. Female. Roughly 160 cm. He has seen her before, hadn’t he? She shouts for him to wait, to not call for an ambulance. Why would she try to stop him? Should he listen? Saguru bites his lip. It’s only logical that he tries to get help, but she surely has a good reason to stop him.  
  
“ _Tantei-san_. Call for an ambulance.” Kid’s voice sounds sharp. Saguru hears the click of that modified gun’s safety being deactivated. “And you… I asked you a question: _who are you_?”  
  
The woman stops dead in her tracks as she reaches inside her own pocket. For reasons he can’t explain, Saguru hesitates to initiate the call sequence. Even with Edogawa bleeding out in Kid’s arms, he can’t help but wonder what she has to say or what her relationship with Edogawa is. It’s unlike the two of them are related… so, then what?  
  
“Agent Jodie Starling. Under his orders, Conan-kun is not allowed to be taken to a hospital” she says, holding out some sort of identification. In what little light he has to go by, he can barely make out the letters _F, B, I—FBI_! In Japan? “I need you to allow me to take him.”  
  
“His orders?” Saguru frowns. “Edogawa-kun’s orders? Or someone else’s?”  
  
“Conan-kun’s.” She reaches into the pocket of her coat and pulls out her phone, which she unlocks and hurls at Kid. “Check my messages if you don’t believe me. The sooner you let me take him, the sooner he gets help.”  
  
There’s silence as Kid reads through some messages. Saguru is watching him, quiet as the snow continues to turn red. His thumb hovers over the call button, shaking in the cold air. Maybe it’s just him or maybe it’s the lack of light, but it seems like Edogawa is growing paler and paler by the second. He has half a mind to shout at Kid for something—can they let this woman take Edogawa or not?  
  
“Why doesn’t he want to be taken to a hospital?” Saguru asks her, turning to watch her for any signs of dishonesty. “Where else could he be taken?”  
  
“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that myself,” she replies, looking frazzled. He supposes she’s just as eager to get Edogawa help as he is. “In case he had gotten injured, he had inputted coordinates into my GPS.” She swallows. “Conan-kun wasn’t supposed to get hurt tonight, but he said it didn’t hurt to have a back-up plan.”  
  
There’s a _crunch crunch crunch_ as Kid gets up to walk over the thin blanket of snow piling on the rooftop. Saguru watches him carefully hold Edogawa in his arms—God, he looks so _small_. Walking past him, Kid hands off Edogawa to her.  
  
“Take him and go,” he says, taking a step back. “We’ve wasted enough precious seconds. I’ll create a diversion so you can get him out of here unnoticed. They should already be outside for the most part, following a fake I let loose.”  
  
Giving her thanks, the woman speeds off, holding Edogawa, exercising a great amount of care so as to not jostle him too much. Saguru just clicks out of the phone app, unsure of what to do now. He turns to Kid, seeing the stained suit. In this context, red is not a color that suits him. Seeing the Moonlight Thief covered in blood is nowhere near a pretty sight.  
  
“What now?”  
  
“We wait.” Kid spins on his heel, his cape flaring out. “I’m going to set up a dummy. Think you can convince them that it’s me, Tantei-san?” He kicks the snow. “Someone needs to clean this up. And I can’t look like this in front of an audience.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wassup my dudes.
> 
> So, I’ve been trying to write a continuation for this one for a few weeks now. I didn’t finish it until today because I needed something to do so I could procrastinate on all the homework I have due tomorrow. Sksksksks.
> 
> Okay, but, I write on my phone. It’s just more convenient for me. I used to just use Pages because I try to reserve Word for all my school stuff. Though, the new Pages update screwed me over and all my documents kept disappearing. I switched to Google Docs or whatever and I actually don’t hate it. ^ ^
> 
> Anywho... this is a continuation of XIII—or 13 for those who can’t read Roman Numerals. I like Roman Numerals and I suck at reading them, but I’ve improved since starting this collection. Sksks. They make me feel happy.
> 
> Okay, yeah, I digress. To recap: It’s Friday the 13th, Hakuba was at a heist and notices Conan doing whatever he’s doing. Conan tells him that he’ll be leaving and wanted to say goodbye to Kid. While on the rooftop, Conan tells Kid to get down and ends up getting shot through the head.
> 
> Did he really get shot? That’s for me to know and for you to find out. Is this some plan? Who knows. If it is some plan, is Kid in on it? *shrugs*


	22. XXII

Taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap.  
  
Haibara pauses in the middle of analyzing a sample of Kudō’s blood. She pulls herself away from the microscope she had been using to conduct a blood smear. Looking around her makeshift laboratory in the Professor’s basement, she purses her lips, listening for another sound.  
  
After a few silent moments, she drags her gaze towards the clock on the wall. Thirty-seven minutes past two in the morning. Somehow, acknowledging the time makes her hyper-aware of how heavy her eyelids are and how addled her brain is. She grumbles to herself, determined to finish analyzing Kudō’s blood and brainstorm some ideas for another antidote, and grabs her phone. Opening her music app, she pulls up her favorite Okino Yōko playlist and presses play, making sure that her music is loud enough to help her stay awake instead of pulling her towards the brink of sleep.  
  
(Taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap.)  
  
Relishing in the lonely night, she hums along to _Dandy Lion_ and twists the fine focus knob and adjusts the illuminator to dim the light just a bit.  
  


•••  
  


She shows up at school the next day, tired but running on a hot cup of coffee with four sugars and two splashes of milk that she had nursed in her hands until she threw the cup away in a recycling bin near the park that happens to be on her way to Teitan Elementary. She hides the bags under her eyes with a bit of concealer that Kudō’s mother had bought in the States and gifted to her the last time she was here. She’ll have to ask the woman for another—Yukiko would no doubt be excited at the idea of being able to buy makeup for her.  
  
“Ai-chan,” singsongs Ayumi, dropping her bag on the desk just an aisle away from her own. Haibara gives her a little smile. “You should have come to the park with us yesterday! This really nice onīsan was walking his dog yesterday while Conan was trying to teach us how to dribble a ball on our heads. She was so cute! He let us pet her too.”  
  
“And where might Edogawa-kun be right now?” she asks, noting his absence. The homeroom bell would be ringing soon. Even the boys were already here. As she drops into her seat, she eyes the empty spot next to her that Kudō had claimed long before her own transfer.  
  
Having overheard the question, Mitsuhiko turns around in his seat and says, “After the onīsan left, Conan-kun said he wasn’t feeling good and went back to the Agency. He’s probably sick.”  
  
Haibara raises her brows but says nothing as Genta integrates himself into the conversation to talk about the ice cream that the three of them had gotten before they left the park and parted ways. After the last time Kudō fell ill, she made sure he remembered to tell her whenever he felt unwell so that she may make sure it wasn’t a side effect of the prototype poison he had taken or so she could take advantage of a cold to test a prototype antidote. Excusing herself to the toilet, she slips her phone into her pocket and leaves.  
  
As she ducks into the hall, she thumbs her passcode in and scrolls through her messages. Not a single message from either of Kudō’s identities. She purses her lips and taps on the phone icon next to the photo accompanying Edogawa’s contact. The ringing tells her that her call is going through. The way it continues tells her that Kudō has not picked up his phone. Tsk. She hopes he has a good reason for not answering.  
  
And with that, Haibara rolls her eyes and hangs up. If that’s how he’s going to be, then so be it. He’s probably gotten himself tied up in some case or is running late. If he’s actually sick, she surmises that she can expect a text from him later. Just in case, she’ll stop by the agency under the guise of dropping off his missed assignments if he doesn’t show up before the school day is over. Though, knowing him, he wouldn’t show up to school if he were actually sick enough to stay in bed in the first place and he usually likes to pour all his attention into solving a case rather than showing up to school and puzzling over it.  
  
She yawns and slides the door open, slipping back into the classroom and walks over to her seat. Ayumi looks at her but says nothing as she returns her attention to Genta’s story. She smiles and slips back into her chair. Perhaps she should have stayed in bed herself.  
  
“—ent to get some juice and when I came back to my room I thought I heard some tapping,” Genta says, leaning forward as though he’s telling them a secret. “Didn’t hear it again until a few moments later. It was kinda weird.”  
  
Haibara sniffs, pulling out her notebook and a pencil to get ready for the drill that that Rampo-maniac likely has ready for them as soon as the bell rings.  
  
“What did it sound like?” Mitsuhiko asks, curiosity lacing his voice. “Maybe it was some sort of code!”  
  
She snorts quietly. Life isn’t a mystery novel. Things like those only ever seem to happen to Kudō. His life is the exception. Forget a mystery novel, his life is a complete live-action mystery drama.  
  
“It sounded a lil like this.” Genta raps his knuckles against his desk. Haibara almost drops her pencil case. “I think. That’s what I remember.”  
  
“When did you hear that?” she asks.  
  
Genta gives her a weird look and shrugs. “I think it was around two-thirty in the morning?”  
  
She purses her lips. Taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap. Morse code for SOS. The same sequence of tapping that she vaguely recalls hearing at some point last night and the same sequence of tapping that she dismissed as her imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I don’t know Morse code at all so I looked up a video of the tapping sequence for SOS.
> 
> Anywho... sorry for the lack of updates until recently. I’m going through writer’s block again. Plus, I had two AP tests to study for on top of my classwork. I actually have a lot of work to make up from the classes I missed thanks to testing. :((
> 
> I don’t remember why I came up with this? Basically, Haibara hears some tapping coming from _somewhere_ but she assumes she’s just tired. It’s only when she learns that Genta heard the same sequence around the same time she did that she gets worried.
> 
> Anyway, spoilers, but she quickly deduces that they both heard the tapping via Detective Badge. And since Conan’s absent...
> 
> So, I wrote this with Case File I in mind. I guess you could think of this as some sort of filler or continuation of it?
> 
> Also, [_Schrodinger’s Detective_ by scratchienails](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4513149/chapters/10264935) has updated!! It’s been, like, two years? The same author also recently updated another one of their fics. ^ ^ Honestly, both of those fics are quite inspirational! The writing style is so nice and the plots are so well thought out!!! I’m actually half-inclined to write something inspired by either of those fics, but I’ll get to that if I get to it. Go check the story out if you haven’t already!


	23. XXIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Violent thoughts of harming oneself and/or others!!! Specifically with sharp objects!!!

He first notices it when he’s standing in the kitchen, doing his best to chop up the vegetables for their curry in the same way Ran had done so because she’s too occupied with shaping some gyoza.  
  
There’s this niggling thought in the back of his mind that whispers to him, thinking about _what if he slices his fingers off or thrusts this knife into his stomach?_ When the violent nature of those ideas register, Conan recoils, dropping the knife onto the cutting board and slipping off of the step stool as he takes an involuntary step back. His yelp catches Ran’s attention and she asks him if he’s okay as she appears by his side in an instant, picking him off the ground and checking him for injuries as she makes a fuss.  
  
“I-I’m okay,” he says, still shaken. He looks up and sees the knife’s handle hanging over the edge. He tears his eyes away from the sight. “Can I go play now?”  
  
“All right,” she relents, regarding him with a concerned look in her eyes. “I can handle it from here. Thank you.” As she rises, she tells him to wash his hands and to be back for dinner if he plans on leaving.  
  
Conan obeys and moves to the sink to wash his hands, focusing on each individual finger and rubbing his palms together three times before drying them off with the little hand towel. He bolts over to the room he shares with Kogorō and shuts the door behind him. He sinks down to the floor, his head dizzy with confusion.  
  
“I’m okay.” He swallows. “Morbid curiosity. Everyone thinks things like that occasionally.”  
  
But why was he actually so tempted to do it? To have a little slip-up and slice off a digit or two, or to slip off the stool and coincidentally end up with a knife in his stomach? Conan shivers. He looks down at his hands, looking at the minute tremors while flexing his fingers and wondering why he felt the urge to go through with something so… terrible? Just thinking about it makes him anxious.

•••  


The second time he notices is when he’s in class, cutting out some kitten-shaped cardstock for his and Haibara’s mobile.  
  
At some point, the chatter of the other students melt away and the sound of scissors slicing through paper is thundering in his ears. His eyes are transfixed on the way the scissors glide through. He licks his lips. If he cut hard enough, surely he’d be able to nick himself, right? This pair of scissors is absurdly sharp. And his fingers are insanely delicate and small. What if he just—  
  
He jolts out of his reverie when a cold hand wraps around his wrist.  
  
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past two minutes, Edogawa-kun,” hisses Haibara, meeting his startled gaze. She sighs, pulling her hand away and leaning back in her seat. “If you want to lose a finger, do it at home. I don’t think any of us want to clean up the aftermath.”  
  
“Right,” he says, unsure of how else to respond. He looks down at his scissors which gleam as the blades catch the light. His gaze moves to Haibara’s pale hands which look even more delicate than his own and then to her neck that seems unprotected and vulnerable. Biting his lip, he sets it down and pushes it closer to the opposite end of the table. Looking at her abashedly, he asks, “Think you can finish the rest on your own?”  
  
She looks at him and clicks tongue. “I saw this cute _Fusae_ purse in a catalog the other day.”  
  
“Deal.”  
  
He busies himself with a permanent black marker that he uses to draw on little dots for eyes on the pieces that have already been cut out. When Kobayashi walks down each row of desks, she compliments everyone on their progress thus far. When she gets to him and Haibara, she pauses, saying that it would probably be better if the both of them were cutting out the shapes before splitting up.  
  
“Edogawa-kun had a little mishap with the scissors,” Haibara replies smoothly. “I’m almost done anyway and we’re both ahead of everyone else.”  
  
After assuring her that he’s okay and most definitely does not need a plaster or a visit to the nurse, Conan looks at Haibara, asking why she felt the need to tell Kobayashi that. He did _not_ have a quote-unquote little mishap with the scissors! He just… he doesn’t want to continue cutting out the same shape over and over again, that’s all.  
  
“I only call it as I see it,” she murmurs, eyes not leaving her own pair of scissors. She makes the final cut and the extra paper falls to her desk. “For both of our sakes, I recommend you stay away from sharp objects for a while.” She looks at him, smirking. “I wasn’t kidding about that _Fusae_ purse.”  


•••  


“Conan-kun? Can you hurry up? Please?”  
  
He swallows, looking down at the pocketknife in his hand and then at the bomb that lay before him. Conan turns his attention to Ran, who happens to have been unfortunate enough to end up trapped in here with him and a bomb set to blow in less than ten minutes. He looks at her, ignoring the horrifying voice in his head that wonders what would happen if he tried to thrust this blade in her. She’d be able to defend herself just fine against him, right?  
  
“Ran-nēchan,” he says, his voice low and quiet as he holds the pocketknife out towards her. His arm is shaking and he has to look away. “I need you to finish it for me.”  
  
“But I don’t know how to do that,” she says, her voice scared and climbing up an octave with each word.  
  
“Don’t worry. I’ll help you.” He wets his lips, staring at his shaking hands. “I’m with you every step of the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello. How did this come about? I’ve no idea. Probably because it’s Mental Health Awareness Month.
> 
> I’ve been wanting to write Conan as though he has OCD. There’s this common misconception about how OCD people are all about order and cleanliness or whatever. And that’s true—just not true for all people. I struggle with OCD and, admittedly, I do have issues with certain things needing to be in a certain order. I won’t get into it though. Feel free to do a bit of your own research. ^ ^
> 
> So, here we see him with a subtype of OCD that’s usually referred to as Harm OCD? Conan here has rather intrusive thoughts about harming himself or others. Here, we glimpse Conan’s intrusive thoughts concerning sharp objects and at the end we see how it gets in the way of him actually doing something.
> 
> I would have explored more symptoms and stuff if I were to make this longer, but I didn’t feel like doing so. Mainly because I feel like it’s hard to write these sort of things without falling into things that are too stereotypical. It’s a total minefield. I’d hate to offend anyone, too.
> 
> But!! Everyone has thoughts like these. Not often, but occasionally. The difference is just that people with Harm OCD find that these thoughts aren’t just fleeting ideas, but that they actually greatly affect one’s life.
> 
> Anyway... yeah. That’s it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking time to read this! 
> 
> If you enjoyed the idea and would like to see a continuation, please leave a comment or a kudos. :) Preferably the former as those make me really happy. If you enjoyed the idea and would like to write a continuation yourself, please just ask and I’ll be more than happy to let you.
> 
> Now available - NightBaron!Conan: [.12%](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1093683)
> 
> Now Available - Author!Shinichi: [The Truth Is Crippled](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16519241/chapters/38693765)
> 
> Now available - KaiShin Exes AU: [Exes & Woes](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1117593)
> 
> Now available - KaiShin Soulmate AU: [Measured In Moments](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15780297)
> 
> Now available - Sorcerer!Conan: [The Natural Enemy](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1119987)


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